


Closer

by katatonic25



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katatonic25/pseuds/katatonic25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new student's hairy situation brings Professors Granger and Malfoy closer together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The bell on the door jingled as a disheveled red head and his very pregnant wife stepped into The Three Broomsticks.

“Ron!” Harry called as he waved his friend over to the table. At the head of the table sat Hermione, wearing a crown made of radishes and a lovely alcohol-induced glow that indicated just how late Ron was to the party.

Ron leaned down to kiss Hermione on the cheek while Lavender waddled over to the birthday girl to join him.

“I am so sorry, Hermione! Now that I’ve grown as big as a house, nothing looks good anymore! It took ages to find a dress that didn’t make me look like a stuffed sausage,” she lamented.

Everyone at the table laughed. This was Lavender’s first pregnancy, and she was having a difficult time with the many changes in her body.

Hermione waved off the apologies with a smile as Madam Rosmerta brought another drink to the table.

“From a mysterious well-wisher, my dear,” Rosmerta answered the table’s questioning looks.

Ginny stood from her place next to her husband, Harry, and cleared her throat.

“I’d like to make a toast!” she began loudly. “To the most hard-working, dedicated friend anyone could ask for. To the most caring, yet somehow equally intimidating Transfiguration professor Hogwarts has seen since McGonagall. And of course, to the brains of the infamous Golden Trio. Happy twenty-sixth Birthday, Hermione! Cheers, everyone!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and chuckled at her vivacious friend while a dreamy looking blond returned to the table from the loo.

“You’ll never guess who’s sitting in the corner- alone,” Luna whispered as she adjusted her own radish crown. The members of the party peered into the darkness.

“Is that Malfoy?” Harry asked as he adjusted his glasses.

“That’s _Professor_ Malfoy, Harry,” Luna corrected, sliding into her seat next to her boyfriend of four months, Neville.

Hermione braced herself for the eruption from the red-headed portion of the table.

Ginny gaped unattractively while Ron whipped his head in search of Malfoy.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Ron began, his face growing redder with each syllable. “Who in their right mind would hire that ferret to teach at Hogwarts?”

Hermione opened her mouth to begin her defense of her beloved Headmistress, but Neville beat her to it.

“Headmistress McGonagall hired him this year. He’s actually quite a good professor, Ron. We work closely since he relies on my greenhouses to produce ingredients for the students’ potions. Malfoy’s quiet, but respectful. I am surprised to see him out, to be honest. I didn’t think he had much of a social life here.”

“I’m not sure skulking in a corner alone in a bar counts as a social life, Neville,” Ginny retorted with a snort.

“Enough about Malfoy,” Hermione declared. She had put off telling her friends about the new development at Hogwarts- and discussing him was _not_ how she planned to spend the remains of her birthday.

“Yes, it’s time for presents!” Luna clapped and pulled a small, rectangular gift out of her bag. The others followed suit, and soon, the table was filled with gifts.

Grateful to Luna, Hermione reached over to open her gift first. It was a single, long hair pin. As Hermione inspected it closer, she could see tiny runes written in gold around the base. She shot a questioning look to her friend.

“I found it in Greece. The runes will guide you to your heart’s desire while simultaneously protecting you from those who wish you harm. I know you aren’t exactly chasing dark wizards anymore, but it seemed fitting,” Luna explained to the table.

“It’s lovely, Luna! Thank you!” Hermione replied as she stood to hug her friend and stuck the pin through her bun.

\----------

Four drinks and a pile of presents later, Hermione was struggling to make it back to her apartment in the castle. She had just made it into the hall near her door when the precariously piled stack of gifts tumbled down from their levitated perch.

“Dammit!” Hermione hissed. All she wanted to do was settle into her warm bed and sleep.

The door diagonally to the right of her opened and a blond head poked out. The owner of the head cleared his throat, causing Hermione to turn around too quickly. She tumbled down to the floor, amidst her presents.

“Argh!” she groaned, as she covered her eyes with her hands. “Too many shots, not enough dinner. Next time, I am planning my own birthday celebration. Luna just cannot be trusted with necessities like eating!”

Her single audience member chuckled nervously and asked, “Professor Granger, do you need a hand?”

Hermione lowered her hands and blushed crimson. A very sleepy looking and very shirtless Draco Malfoy was now towering above her.

Willing herself to speak, Hermione responded gratefully. “Yes, actually. Thank you, Professor Malfoy. I seem to have lost my pride along with the function of my liver this evening.” She lifted her hand and he helped her up.

His skin was pleasantly warm, she noted. He looked like he was carved from marble, so she always assumed he would be cold to the touch. Hermione snapped back to reality when Malfoy levitated her gifts back toward her apartment door.

After giving him one last appraising glance, she stumbled over to the door and let herself, Malfoy and the pile of presents inside. He set them down on her coffee table and turned to face her.

Malfoy seemed more nervous than before, Hermione thought. He wiped his hands on his pajama bottoms and his eyes danced around her living room.

“Well, thank you again, Professor. I should be getting to bed now…” Hermione trailed off, not wanting to appear rude- but she really was exhausted.

Malfoy nodded and walked over to the door. Just before pulling it shut, he mumbled “Happy birthday, Granger.”

Hermione smiled and walked into her warm bedroom. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she pulled off her clothes and undid her hair so her brown curls fell in a waterfall down her back. She set Luna’s hairpin on the nightstand and flopped into bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, Hermione fell into a deep sleep. The golden runes seemed to glow a little brighter in the moonlight. 


	2. Chapter 2

As her wand vibrated on Monday morning, Hermione groaned and rolled over. Mornings seemed to come too soon on Mondays, she thought as she swung her legs off the bed. She half-walked, half-tripped into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Scorching hot water ran down her back while Hermione rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She liked her showers hot enough to feel clean and new- and she found that nearly burning the skin off her body tended to do that. After shampooing her hair, she stretched out her long locks with deep conditioner. It seemed to be the only product, magic or otherwise, that tamed her wild curls. They still curled in whatever which way, but they no longer looked like a bird’s nest atop her head.

Hermione’s shower lasted longer than necessary, so she magically dried her hair and grabbed the first outfit she found in her closet. It was one of the many fashion-related gifts Ginny had bought her in the past eight years- a soft, silky blouse in an icy green that “made her eyes pop” and a form-fitting tweed pencil skirt. She quickly wrapped her hair into a chignon with her new birthday hairpin, grabbed a set of pearl earrings and looked in the mirror. With her warm chocolate eyes, lightly tanned skin and deep brown hair, the green shirt really did look fabulous. Hermione made a mental note to thank Ginny. After lining her eyes with eyeliner, a generous coat of mascara, a swipe of blush and a touch of rose tinted lip gloss, she was pleased with her reflection. For the last piece of her outfit, Hermione opened her wardrobe again to look at her ever-growing collection of shoes. Shoes were her babies, her one stereotypically feminine weakness. They were the only item that showed underneath her professor’s robes and they were the one thing that brought Hermione an unprecedented swagger in her step. For today’s look, she decided on a pair of emerald green peep toe pumps.

Hermione’s wand vibrated again, signaling the beginning of breakfast. She grabbed her robes and flew out the door- straight into Draco Malfoy.

“Sorry!” she exclaimed, as she grabbed hold of his arms to steady herself. They felt nice- masculine and sturdy. She let go and noticed his hands still wrapped around her waist. His face held a look of shock- and did she detect a hint of embarrassment?

After untangling, they walked to the Great Hall in awkward silence. Upon arriving at the large double doors, Malfoy looked down at Hermione.

“Good talk, Granger,” he said, while holding the door open for her.

He was gone with a swish of his robes before she could respond to his comment. The idea of Malfoy making a joke was too foreign to process, she mused as she walked up to the professor’s table at the front of the room. 

After greeting her colleagues, Hermione sat down and began to pour herself a cup of tea. To her right, Luna and Neville were discussing the many uses of mandrake leaves. The seat directly to her left was empty, which Hermione found odd. Headmistress McGonagall was never late for breakfast. Just as she reached for a piece of toast, a silver wisp bound into the Great Hall. Its form, a small tabby cat, perched directly in front of Hermione.

“Professor Granger,” it began in McGonagall’s voice. “Please come to the hospital wing immediately. Bring Professors Lovegood and Malfoy with you.”

Her voice sounded strained and breathy, almost like she was running.

Luna was already on her feet when Hermione scanned the Great Hall, looking for a tuft of platinum amongst the students. Her eyes settled on Malfoy- he was talking to one of the older Slytherin students. His face was set in a grimace and his jaw was locked firmly. Even from several meters away, Hermione could see the muscles in his neck jumping. Just as her eyes traveled back to his face, he turned and made eye contact with her.

Hermione beckoned him to follow Luna and herself out the Great Hall. He obeyed wordlessly.

\----------

“Dear Merlin,” Hermione breathed upon arriving in the hospital wing. “Is that a student?”

The bed farthest from the wall was occupied by a bloody mess. The nurse and the headmistress were scrambling around the bed, murmuring incantations.

“Professors!” McGonagall summoned them over. “Tell me what you see.”

In the bed lay a girl, no older than twelve. Her uniform was torn and muddy, as bright red blood seeped through her white shirt. The smell of grass and blood hit Hermione’s nose and she tried not to gag. On the girl’s side, right above her rib cage, there was a large wound. The skin around the wound was tinged gray.

“It’s a bite,” Luna answered. “But I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s rotting her flesh.”

As the Care of Magical Creatures professor, Luna had plenty of experience with creature-caused mishaps. The fact that she didn’t have an answer caused Hermione’s head to reel.

“Headmistress, where was she found?” Malfoy asked, his voice shaking.

“This is Rebecca Stanley, a first year Gryffindor. She was found this morning in the Forbidden Forest by Hagrid, who was collecting samples for Professor Longbottom. She was unconscious, like she is now.”

Hermione leaned in closer to inspect the wound. The edges were ragged and slightly raised. Rebecca had other wounds- defensive wounds by the looks of it. There were scratches along her forearms and a deep laceration along her right leg. She stepped back into Malfoy, who had come up behind her to take a look as well.

His hands were at her waist again, she noticed. Hermione stepped to the side so Malfoy and Luna could get a good look.

“Headmistress McGonagall…” Luna nearly whispered. “There appears to be claw marks across her neck- and I would wager her back as well. Whatever did this chased Miss Stanley and hunted her down.”

The professors studied the injured young woman silently for several minutes before Malfoy cleared his throat and spoke.

“Yesterday was a full moon.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Malfoy’s words hit the room and utter chaos broke loose.

“Professor Lovegood, go fetch Hagrid. Find out what he knows about the werewolves in the Forbidden Forest. Hermione, consult the texts. What do we need to know about educating a young werewolf? And Professor Malfoy, begin research into the Wolfsbane Potion. Madam Crest,” the Headmistress turned to the Nurse. “Heal the wounds and keep the other students away from Miss Stanley. We need to know what we’re up against. We will meet in my office in an hour.”

At her dismissal, the professors flew into action. Hermione and Luna raced down the steps and split ways at the library. With a wave to the librarian, Hermione headed towards the restricted section.

Hogwarts had several books on lycanthropy, and after growing close with Remus Lupin, Hermione had acquired a few of her own. She quickly grabbed the library’s copies, and headed down the hall to her office.

Years of practice had honed Hermione’s research skills. By the end of the hour, she had four sheets of notes.

When the hour was up, the three professors sat across from the Headmistress in the large office. Portraits of former headmasters looked down sternly as the scene below them unfolded.

“According to Hagrid,” Luna began, “there have always been werewolves in the forest. However, the pack is the product of two werewolves mating during the full moon. These wolves aren’t like other werewolves, in that they never take human form. Hagrid was unsure if their bite could indeed turn a human, but he leans against it.”

McGonagall nodded and turned to Malfoy. She raised her hand as a gesture for him to speak.

“Wolfsbane is incredibly dangerous to make. Aconite is the main ingredient, which is a poison. I checked my stores and I have all the ingredients. It takes an incredibly skilled potions master to brew such a volatile potion.”

“And are you not a skilled potions master, Professor Malfoy?” McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him.

“I am. But we must consider whether the risks outweigh the benefits.”

Hermione sharply turned to face him.

“Excuse me? What exactly are you suggesting, Malfoy?” her tone sharp, her eyes focused on his.

“ _Professor_ Malfoy. And I am suggesting that perhaps Hogwarts is not the place for a young, dangerous werewolf. Not only could brewing the potion kill the brewer, but keeping Miss Stanley here is also a risk. We already know that werewolves are vicious creatures. Female werewolves are nearly unheard of, and rumor is that they are even more ferocious than males. It could be a disaster.”

“She is a student! We can’t abandon her!” Hermione cried. “If I may, Headmistress, I’d like to share my research.”

McGonagall nodded, her face pensive.

“It’s true that female werewolves are rare. Some texts suggest that instead of turning once a month, they turn twice- once during the full moon, and once during the new moon. However, it is a myth that she-wolves are any more vicious than male wolves. In fact, some anecdotal evidence shows that they may be _less_ aggressive. The Wolfsbane potion allows werewolves to maintain their humanity during the transformation. Miss Stanley wouldn’t be a threat to her fellow students, given that we find a place for her to stay during the transformation. Headmistress, we have a duty as her educators and as fellow humans to help and guide her. This was thrust upon her and we cannot simply toss her out!”

Silence fell upon the room. After a few moments, McGonagall spoke.

“Hermione is right. Miss Stanley must stay at Hogwarts. And if indeed she will transform in two weeks at the new moon, we must begin preparations immediately. Professor Malfoy, will you brew the potion?”

Malfoy nodded curtly.

“Professors Lovegood and Granger, I trust you two to find a safe, comforting place for Miss Stanley’s transformation. I want two professors present during each cycle. I will inform the staff today, so everyone is prepared. You may go now,” McGonagall dismissed them.

\----------

The next two weeks flew by as Luna and Hermione prepared for the new moon. They decided to use Hermione’s apartment as the room for Rebecca to transform in because it was secure and far from the other students.

The day of the new moon arrived and the day passed quickly. At five p.m. sharp, Hermione heard a knock at her door. There stood a very nervous-looking Rebecca and Luna.

“G-good evening, Professor G-granger,” Rebecca stuttered.

“Hello, Rebecca, Luna. Come in,” Hermione opened her door all the way.

Luna paused at the threshold.

“I’m sorry, Hermione, but I can’t stay tonight. Hagrid is heading into the forest tonight to check out the pack, and he asked me to accompany him. You know I’m the only professor fully accepted by the creatures of the forest, and I can’t leave him alone.”

Hermione nodded apprehensively, as she grew worried for her night alone with a new werewolf.

“But I’ve acquired back-up!”

A door opened and closed in the hall.

“Evening, Professor Granger. Ready to babysit?” Malfoy appeared in the doorway next to Luna.

Hermione fiddled with her hairpin nervously.

“Alright… well come in, Professor Malfoy. I’ll see you tomorrow, Luna.” Hermione bade her friend goodbye.

After instructing Malfoy and Rebecca to make themselves at home, Hermione changed into more comfortable clothes for the night. When she came out of her room in jeans and a v-neck fitted t-shirt, Malfoy had set up a grading station at her kitchen table and Rebecca was sitting on the couch with a book.

Hermione waved her wand at the wireless radio and soft jazz filled the room. She prepared a cup of tea for her guests and settled next to Rebecca with some essays that still needed to be graded.

At 5:30, the elves brought a tray of food for the unlikely trio. They each nervously nibbled on their sandwiches, while occasionally sparing a glance at their watches. The professors returned to their grading, while Rebecca fidgeted on the couch, her book forgotten.

When the clock hit 6:07, Rebecca gasped.

“I think something is happening, Professors,” she informed them in a quivering voice.

Malfoy was on his feet and at Hermione’s side in the blink of an eye, wand gripped tightly in his hand.

Rebecca let out a low, whining sound as her body began to transform. She crouched on the floor, and held her head in her hands. Her body shook as her limbs elongated and thickened. Hair began to cover her visible skin while her uniform ripped to accommodate her new form.

After a few minutes, Hermione had a full-blown adolescent wolf in her apartment. The wolf looked up at the duo and hesitantly walked forward. Rebecca paused directly in front of Hermione and let out a deep whine.

She reached out to touch her student-turned-wolf, but Malfoy grabbed her hand.

“Are you mad?” he asked, eyes boring incredulously into her.

Hermione glanced between the grey eyes of her colleague and the grey eyes of the wolf in front of her. She extracted her hand from Malfoy’s grip and reached out again.

The wolf leaned into her hand and Hermione began to scratch the soft head in front of her. The whimpering stopped.

“I’ve never seen a werewolf take the full form of a wolf,” Hermione murmured. “It’s remarkable. And with the potion, Rebecca’s still… Rebecca.”

She looked up at Malfoy, who was clearly having quite the inner debate. His eyes looked pained and he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. Suddenly, he dropped to the ground with a grace Hermione envied.

“Well, come here, then,” he called to Rebecca.

She trotted over to him and curled up on the floor next to him.

“I suppose this is going to be a rather uneventful night,” he commented, while scratching Rebecca behind the ears.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content happens in the next chapter! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content begins here! Thanks for reading!

If someone told Hermione two weeks ago that she would be sitting in her apartment with Draco Malfoy and a werewolf, she would’ve laughed in their face or sent them to St. Mungo’s for psychiatric help.

She looked around her living room. Malfoy was back at the kitchen table reading a book on lycanthropy. Rebecca, in her wolf form, was curled up in front of the fireplace. Hermione was perched on the couch, with her legs tucked underneath her. Every few minutes, she glanced up from her own book and watched Malfoy.

His reading face was adorable, she thought absent-mindedly. His head was cocked to the left and his eyes were squinted ever so slightly. Right as her eyes fell upon his lips, Malfoy looked up. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the other side.

Hermione blushed and covered her face with her book. She supposed it was too much to hope for that he didn’t realize she was staring at him. She reached up to her hairpin and undid her hair- after all, she was no longer in her Professor wardrobe. Hermione could feel Malfoy’s eyes on her as she ran her hands through the curls as they fell loosely around her.

“Granger,” Malfoy’s deep voice cut through the silence. “How long have you been a professor?”

She looked up at him thoughtfully. “Four years. After the war, I went to a wizarding university, and then I accepted a job here.”

She paused. There was a very good chance that she was about to cross a line, but her curiosity got the best of her.

“And what about you, Malfoy? I hadn’t heard much about you after the war.”

She held her breath and prepared for the reappearance of the arrogant git she knew at Hogwarts.

He never came.

Instead, Malfoy answered her. “After my trial, I was sentenced to house arrest for two years. When I was released, I spent my time traveling the world. I wanted to see everything I missed during those two years. It drove my mother barmy. The day after I returned to Britain for her birthday, I received a letter from McGonagall. The potions professor quit with no notice, and she heard I was in town for the time being. I knew it was time to settle down, so I took the job. Three weeks later, it was the first of September.”

They continued to swap post-war stories, carefully avoiding their years at school. As it turned out, Malfoy studied potions in New Orleans for a year. He told Hermione about the city that he grew to love. In return, she told him what it was like to study at her university in France. They discussed the books they read, the subjects they loved, and the friends they cherished.

“How are old Pothead and Weaselbee?” Malfoy asked and his smile reached his eyes.

“I can’t answer you unless you call them Harry and Ron, _Ferret,_ ” she retorted with a flip of her hair.

“How about Potter and Weasley? I don’t think they will ever be ‘Harry’ and ‘Ron’ to me.”

“Fine,” Hermione sighed. “They’re quite well, actually. Harry and Ginny got married right after the war. He’s begging her to have children, but she thoroughly enjoys her life as the young and fabulous Mrs. Potter. Ron and Lavender got married two years ago, and Lavender is expecting their first child in October.” She chuckled as the image of a waddling Lavender and flustered Ron danced through her mind.

“I always thought you and Ron were heading down the aisle with Potter and the other Weasley,” Malfoy prompted. His eyes were cast downward and he was fidgeting with the book in his hands.

“You and every other wizard in Britain,” Hermione laughed. “You know how those things go. It just didn’t work out. We’re still close, though, thank goodness. I couldn’t bear it if I thought we couldn’t still be friends. But enough about me, what are your friends up to these days?”

Malfoy shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. The only friend I’ve stayed in contact with is Pansy. Last I heard she was dating some Spanish wizard with a penchant for wine. A match made in heaven, I’d say.”

“A girl after my own heart.”

“Ah yes, from what I can tell, you’re quite the lush, Granger,” Malfoy looked at her pointedly.

“It was my birthday! I blame the mystery well-wisher who sent a tumbler of Ogden’s over to me. Everything after that was a bit of a blur, until I fell in a heap in front of you in the hallway.”

“A mystery well-wisher? Well, aren’t you popular?” he teased.

 “I would hardly call myself popular. I spend most of my time here, where the only single men are under seventeen.”

Malfoy chuckled as he stood up and made his way over to the couch.

“May I join you?” he asked. “Your kitchen chair is making my arse numb.”

“Don’t blame my chair,” Hermione defended. “Maybe your arse is exceptionally bony.”

“My arse is perfect, Granger.”

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Sure it is, Malfoy.”

\----------

A hot mouth trails down her neck and lands in the hollow of her throat. His hands glide up her ribcage to settle on her naked breasts. His thumbs massage her nipples into stiff points. His tongue slides up to her earlobe, where he traces the shell of her ear.

“Is this what you want?” a voice asks her, lust dripping like honey from his mouth.

She arches into his touch and runs her fingers through his soft hair.

“Yes.”

Suddenly, his mouth is on hers and his tongue is in her mouth. He’s gentle, but insistent. He lightly traces the roof of her mouth, and then bites gently on her bottom lip. He’s growing in confidence and his moves become more demanding, more consuming.

She slithers her hands down his torso, tracing each abdominal muscle with her fingernails. His skin breaks out in goose bumps and he growls into her mouth.

He’s on the move again and she moans when his tongue flicks one of her nipples. His lips close around it and he bites down ever-so-gently.

Never one to be one-upped, she traces the outline of his erection through his pants. She relishes in the groan that vibrates against her breast.

Now his fingertips are dancing down her stomach and over her knickers. His thumbnail brushes against her clitoris and she gasps. She can feel his smile against her sternum, her throat, her neck.  He murmurs something and her knickers vanish.

He lightly traces over her wet folds and his thumb touches her again.

“Is this what you want?” he asks again.

She takes his earlobe into her mouth and drags her teeth across it.

“Yes,” she whispers, directly in his ear.

He slides a finger into her, with a slight curl to drag against the spot inside her that makes her quiver.

He adds another, while his thumb gently circles her bundle of nerves. She throws her head back and her hair tickles at her spine. He takes advantage and sinks his teeth into her neck.

She moans louder and his mouth is on hers again. Their kiss is heavy and full of need.

She’s rising and rising, flying closer to the sun. She knows it’s going to burn her at any moment, but he is too good- too devilishly good. He tastes like sin and she can’t get enough. She’s growing hotter and his fingers are dancing in perfect time with her body. Just before she explodes, she opens her eyes. Smoldering grey eyes are looking deep into her own and she’s coming, shattering into a million pieces under his gaze.

\----------

Hermione awoke with a start, her body draped precariously across the couch. She rubbed her eyes and focused on the face peering down at her.

“Professor! It’s morning. We did it!” Rebecca whispered excitedly.

“Good,” Hermione answered groggily. She attempted to sit up, but there was a weight across her upper body. Her eyes flickered down to reveal Malfoy, asleep, with one arm clutching at her waist

 “I’m going back to my dorm now,” Rebecca captured Hermione’s attention again. “Thank you, Professor Granger. Will you tell Professor Malfoy I said thanks, too? And tell him he’s a good ear scratcher!” she giggled and headed out the door.

Hermione looked at the clock- it was only six in the morning. Her gaze fell on Malfoy, who was sleeping on his side, facing her. She decided to let him sleep a bit longer and went into her bathroom to take a shower.

When she emerged from her bedroom, dressed and ready for classes, Malfoy was still asleep.

She walked over to him and placed her hand gently on his shoulder.

“Malfoy,” she nudged. “Malfoy, its morning and you’re asleep on my couch. I’d really like to go to breakfast now. Get your bum out of bed.”

His eyes snapped open and focused on her. Hermione felt a weird lurch in her heart… and in her pelvis. His eyes were the same as always, grey and penetrating, but something had changed. She just couldn’t place a finger on it.

“I’m not _in_ bed, Granger,” he harrumphed as he gathered his wits.  

“If you hurry and get dressed, we can find out when Luna and Hagrid learned in the forest last night before classes start.”

Hermione gave him a look. She knew he was just as eager as she was to discover the catalyst of this little mystery.

“Yes, yes. I’m going,” he mumbled.

Five minutes later, they were on their way to the Great Hall.

As they passed by the Slytherin table, Malfoy shot a glance to his usual seat.

“Why don’t you sit with the other professors?” Hermione asked him.

“I find that sitting with others invites conversation. I’m not particularly chatty before nine,” he responded, raising his eyebrows pointedly.

“Don’t you teach first period?”

“Yes, and I’m sure my students would agree with my assessment.”

They reached the professors’ table and Hermione took her usual seat next to Luna, while Draco sat on the other side of Neville. After a quick hello, Luna began to recount her night.

“There are indeed wolves in the forest, but they are just that- wolves. Hagrid and I met up with some of the friendlier centaurs and they told us there haven’t been weres in the forest since the Great Battle. While this is good for our riskier students who find joy in wandering the forest, it’s not great news for us. _Someone_ bit Rebecca, and it wasn’t a resident of the forest.”

Luna sighed and bit into a piece of toast. Neville rubbed her back soothingly. Draco scratched at the beginnings of beard, evidence of a morning without shaving.               

“So we know nothing,” Hermione clarified.

“Not quite,” Luna responded. “The centaurs confirmed that the pack that used to live in the forest was a result of two werewolves mating while they were transformed. We don’t know who the parents were, only that they left their cubs in the forest to grow up as normal wolves.”

“They left their children?” Hermione asked, aghast.

“Hermione, they weren’t really children,” Neville comforted her. “They would always be wolves first. The only difference between them and other wolves is their near-human intelligence. But even that isn’t enough to classify them as humans. The fact that we call them ‘weres’ simply refers to their parents’ werewolf status.”

Hermione twisted her hairpin absently and took a long sip of tea.

“The centaurs did say that there was runt that went missing,” Luna broke the silence. “They assume that it died, like most runts do, but it is something, I suppose.”

With that, quiet fell upon the group as they tucked in.

\----------

For her fourth period class, Hermione taught the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years. The class went by uneventfully; students were practicing turning a hand towel into a doily. She dismissed her students a few minutes early and began to tidy her desk.

“Professor,” Rebecca walked up to the front of the room where Hermione sat. “Did you sleep alright last night?”

Hermione looked up, her eyebrows drawn together

“I think so. Why do you ask, Miss Stanley?”

“When I’m in wolf form, apparently my hearing becomes more lupine. You sounded like you were in pain,” Rebecca answered. “Maybe it was just a nightmare that you don’t remember.”

“Probably,” Hermione answered. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

They walked together to lunch, chatting about Rebecca’s classes and Hermione’s new duties as “wolf wrangler.”

Just when the duo reached the doors of the Great Hall, Hermione stumbled. A hand from behind her settled on her lower back to steady her.

“Easy there, Professor Granger,” a voice spoke into her right ear.

Hermione turned and looked into grey eyes. She gasped when she recognized those eyes and her previous night’s dream flooded back into her memory.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione’s eyes widened to comic proportions while Malfoy and Rebecca stared curiously at her.

“Alright there?” Malfoy asked.

She nodded dumbly and straightened herself. His hand was still on her back, his thumb rubbing in little circles. Hermione assumed he was trying to be comforting, but instead it reminded her of some very delicious moments in her dream. She felt a tingle up her spine and gave a slight shiver.

Malfoy saw a faint glimmer in her dark hair and he studied the long pin stuck haphazardly in her locks. It could pass as a normal accessory, but it seemed to pulse with a golden glow.

“What’s that in your hair, Professor Granger?”

She reached up to touch it.

“Just a birthday gift from Luna. Why? Thinking of getting one for yourself? I’m not sure gold is your color.” Hermione tried to shake off her reverie.

“Every color is my color, Granger.”

Instead of finding his pompous teasing annoying, she laughed as she walked over to Luna.

“Luna,” Hermione began. “Professor Malfoy seems to be very interested in my birthday gift. Perhaps you could tell him where you bought it so he can acquire one of his own?”

Luna raised her eyebrows at Malfoy while he rolled his eyes at Hermione.

“I do not want a hairpin. It just looked funny for a moment.”

Luna tilted her head to the side. “Well, the shop owner told me that each pin is charmed to lead you to your heart’s desire. He said the runes along the sides can glow if the wearer’s mind is- how shall I say this- _preoccupied_.”

“What were you thinking about, Granger?” Malfoy’s curiosity piqued even more.

Hermione blushed and looked intensely at Luna, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Nothing interesting. Let’s eat, shall we?”

\----------

Two weeks came and went without incident from either Rebecca or the hairpin. The night of the full moon was upon them and Hermione and Neville had plans to search the forest for any signs of activity while Malfoy and Luna stayed the night with Rebecca.

Armed with their wands and Fang, Hagrid’s boarhound, Hermione and Neville set out into the Forbidden Forest. Their plan was to trail the area where Rebecca was found and hope that whatever bit her would show up. It was a weak plan, Hermione admitted, but it was all they had.

After a thorough sweep of the area, the two perched on a log and waited.

“I hope Malfoy’s being nice to Luna,” Hermione mused aloud.

Neville look at her.

“I’m sure he is. Malfoy’s changed since we knew him at Hogwarts. Surely you’ve noticed that, Hermione.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed. I just can’t shake the feeling that he’s still a git, hiding underneath it all.”

Her companion turned to straddle the log. She followed his lead and sat cross-legged in front of him.

“The first day of school, he came to see me, you know,” Neville confessed. “He apologized for how he treated me in school. Told me that his time on the road forced him to look inward. I mean, he’s still Malfoy- but he’s a more tolerable version now. Less…”

“…biting.”

He nodded.

They both drifted in their own thoughts as a comfortable silence surrounded them.

Hermione was studying the shadows on the surface of the moon when she heard it: a howl.

She looked to Neville, who was standing to face her, wand raised.

Leaves crunched behind her and she spun around. In the distance, she could make out two glowing, amber eyes.  Hermione’s pulse raced and sweat gathered along her brow.

A low-pitched growl rumbled and touched her very core.

\----------

Malfoy was perched on Hermione’s couch, with Luna napping to his right and Rebecca coiled at his feet. Her head shot up and she sniffed the air. Malfoy felt it too; something was wrong. His heart began to slam in his chest. He felt like he was running, unable to catch his breath.

Rebecca growled and looked directly into his eyes, grey meeting grey.

He stumbled over her and ran to the window. He flung it open and listened.

A howl echoed through the room.

Malfoy looked over at Rebecca, who was standing, the fur on her back sticking straight up and her teeth bared. Luna was standing next to her, awoken from her nap by the commotion.

“Luna,” he rasped. “What do you feel?”

She shook her head, her eyes narrowing. “Nothing. Do you feel something?”

“Panic. Fear. I think Hermione and Neville are in trouble.”

As soon as she murmured “Go,” he was out the door, Rebecca hot on his trail.

By the time they reached the edge of the forest, her nose was on the ground. He hoped she was able to track Hermione. A million thoughts raced through his mind at once. He hadn’t apologized yet. He hadn’t told her about the old witch in New Orleans who reminded him of her in so many ways. He hadn’t told her how the fire in her eyes made his breath hitch.

Rebecca led them deeper and deeper into the forest. Malfoy was struggling to keep up with the young wolf, who leaped with ease over the many obstacles on the dark forest floor. His lungs burned with effort, but every moment he felt like giving up, he pictured her face- sometimes it was the look of utter determination, like the face she made right before she slapped him in third year, or the sight of her laughing with her friends at her birthday party, cheeks tinted cherry with drink. Each time he conjured her face in his mind, it was enough to push his endurance to the limit.

Rebecca stopped at the top of a ravine and let out a fierce cry. He clambered to the edge and looked down. Malfoy’s heart pounded against his ribcage and the air flew from his lungs.

She was there, back to back with Neville, looking like a battle-forged warrior. Her face was set, her eyes ablaze and her hair in a wild halo around her. He could scarcely make out the glowing hairpin tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. It was this image he should have pictured, Malfoy thought to himself as he scrambled down the embankment. This was Hermione in her element: strong and powerful, wielding her magic with grace and determination.

He landed down near her with a heavy thud. She turned and aimed her wand directly at him, then dropped it quickly.

“Draco!” she started the yell over the sounds of Neville’s curses.

Instead of responding, he joined Neville in the fight against the shining eyes in the dark.

“What is it?” he shouted.

“A werewolf, we think, but…” Neville answered, pausing to shoot a well-timed jinx into the trees.

“But it has a wand,” Hermione finished. “It’s large… larger than Remus. The three of us can take it down with a stunning spell, but we have to do it together!”

“On the count of three?” Malfoy asked.

“One! Two! Three!” Neville counted.

“ _Stupefy!”_ the three voices screamed in unison.

Deafening silence fell throughout the forest.

The sound of their deep breaths started to fill Malfoy’s ears as he turned around to face Hermione. She took a few steps forward so they were nose-to-nose. He was close enough to see the swirls of caramel in her chocolate-colored eyes and to feel puffs of air against his lips as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Uh, Hermione,” Neville’s soft voice interrupted the moment. “Your bum is shining.”

She turned her head to side to look at Neville, but didn’t draw her face back. Malfoy’s nose brushed against her cheek.

“I’m sorry?” She reached down to feel her back pockets and her fingers wrapped around the thick end of her hairpin. The moment her fingers made contact, a tremble went through her body. Hermione lowered her head slightly.

“What is it?” Malfoy asked, lips brushing her earlobe.

He watched with fascination as goose bumps erupted over her neck.

“Just my hairpin. It seems to be holding a lot of interest with the men in my life these days,” Hermione muttered.

“It glows,” Malfoy responded, as if that explained everything. He reached around and pulled it out of her back pocket. “Can I borrow it? I want to translate the runes.”

She shrugged. “Have at it.”

\----------

Malfoy tossed the hairpin from hand to hand as he sat in bed. He rubbed at the runes with his thumb, mesmerized by the way they seemed to dance under his touch. He had only translated a few; the others were too rare to find in his basic textbooks. So far, Luna’s story was correct. There were several runes for love and attraction. The most confusing symbols were for safety. This alone didn’t confuse him, as protection charms were common in wizard jewelry. It was the grouping of runes that confused him. They were paired with a rune that meant “link” or perhaps “bond.”

Malfoy allowed his mind to drift to earlier in the night. Something had passed between Hermione and him, he was sure of it. If he closed his eyes, he could still taste her breath on his. When he concentrated, he could almost smell her. She smelled like apples and vanilla.

Hermione reminded him of the springtime, when the ice thawed and the flower began to bloom. Their presence was heralded and cherished by most, but trod on by some. He used to be one of them, unaware of her beauty and light. He was unsure when exactly she changed in his mind.

Sleep was not going to grace him with its presence in a timely manner tonight, he thought. He tossed the pin on the bed next to him and moved over to his desk. He pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and a quill.

 _Dear Pansy,_ he began. _Let’s meet this weekend. I’ve got news- as well as a hair accessory that may interest you._ He signed it “ _D.M_.” and tucked the note into his robe pocket to send off in the morning. If there was one witch he could count on for information on attraction charms, it was Pansy.

\----------

Her mouth presses gently, almost timidly into his. Her fingers thread through the hair on the nape of his neck. He can smell her, taste her, sweet all around him. Her tongue sweeps along his bottom lip and he opens his mouth to her. She sighs into him and pushes further against his body. She is soft where he is hard and he aches to touch her.

Her lips lower to his neck and then around to his Adam’s apple. She traces it with her teeth, then her tongue, and he moans. She’s kissing down his chest, drawing little patterns on his skin with the tip of her tongue. Her hands move down from his neck and she scrapes her fingernails down his chest. They pass over his nipples and he gives a low rumble.

She’s at his belly button now and she looks up at him. Her eyes are burning him like hot coffee and he can almost feel the heat rising from her. He reaches down to grasp her neck and traces her swollen bottom lip with his thumb.

“Is this what you want?”

He grunts out an affirmation, his voice too filled with need to say any more.

She lowers the waistband of his pants and he sighs when his cock is freed. Her hand wraps around him and she traces the thick veins on the underside of him with the point of her tongue.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

She rubs her nose down his shaft as she lowers her head to kiss his sack. When he can feel her tongue flutter along the seam of it, he groans so loudly that it echoes around the room.

She smiles seductively and he looks in her eyes once again. Before he can gather his wits from the sight in front of him, her mouth closes around the head of his cock. She’s hot and wet… and perfect.

He drops his head back and runs his fingers through her hair. She draws back and asks again, “Is this what you want?”

This time he responds.

“Yes, Hermione. Fuck, yes.”

Her mouth drops around the base and she begins to pump with earnest. He can’t hold it for long, and she can feel it too. Her eyes focus on his and he cries out her name. His warm seed shoots across her tongue and blackness takes over his vision.  


	6. Chapter 6

To casual observers, it looked like the world was coming to an end. Pansy Parkinson was sitting casually with Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood at The Three Broomsticks. They each had a drink and were chatting and laughing. The conversation revolved around a single, plain hairpin sitting on the table between them.

“I’ve heard of this jeweler,” Pansy told the other girls. “He’s got quite the reputation. His runes and charms are powerful. What have you been experiencing?” She prompted Hermione.

“It started with a dream, I think,” Hermione replied.

Pansy’s eyebrows shot through the roof.

“Oh? Do tell.”

Hermione felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She opened her mouth to begin her tale when Malfoy entered the bar. He took off his cloak and she nearly dropped her wineglass at the sight. His jeans fit snugly around his bum and his button-up was pale blue. His blond hair was just disheveled enough to prove he walked from the castle instead of Apparating. He walked over to the women and shook his hair out with his hand.

“Ladies,” he greeted suavely and slid into the empty seat next to Pansy in their booth.

“Just in time. Things were about to get juicy.” She smirked at him and quirked an eyebrow.

His eyes flicked over to the brunette sitting directly across from him. Hermione was wearing a deep purple jumper with a deep enough v-neck that he could see a hint of cleavage. She was nursing a glass of red wine that stained her lips a pretty rouge.

“I’ll spare you the details, but it was definitely… sexually charged,” Hermione informed the table. She expelled her nervous energy by dragging her fingernails up and down the glass. Malfoy watched her fingers intently.

“One thing did stick out,” she continued, ignoring Pansy’s burst of laugher. “The other person in my dream kept asking what I wanted.”

This seemed to delight Pansy, who immediately clapped her hands like a child. Malfoy stared carefully at Hermione.

“Did you say yes?” she asked and leaned forward across the table.

Luna decided to take the heat off of her friend.

“What does it mean if she did?” she asked Pansy.

At this, Pansy smiled a slow, predatory smile.

“If she said yes- which by the look on her face, I’d wager she _did_ \- then she accepted her half of the bond. Hermione would be linked to her dream lover.”

“But not him to her?” Luna inquired.

“Once Hermione accepts her dream, he can choose accept one of his own. The pin acts as a connection between the two. If he says yes in his own dream, anytime she is wearing it, they will be linked.”

Hermione felt like her eyes were going to pop out of her head.

“I need some air,” she grumbled and climbed out of the booth.

Once outside, the cold night air seemed to clear her head. It was unlikely that Pansy was lying- after all, she had been pleasant all evening. Even if she was linked to Draco, she doubted he would link himself to her. Hermione chuckled at the image of her dream-self sexing up a stoic looking Malfoy.

“Laughing to yourself is a sure sign of insanity,” a teasing voice spoke behind her.

She turned to face him.

“So is accepting a bond with a person based on a sex dream,” she retorted.

Malfoy took a step closer to her.

“I suppose that depends on how good the sex was.”

“It seems ridiculous, doesn’t it? That a dream and a piece of wood can link you to ‘your heart’s desire’?”

“It’s magic,” Malfoy shrugged. “You wand is a piece of wood, yet you trust it implicitly. What’s the difference?”

Hermione kicked her foot into the ground and pushed her hands into her pockets.

“When I lived in New Orleans, my apartment was above a bakery run by a little old witch named Anna. Every morning, she left a scone by my door, just sitting there on the ground. At first, I thought she was mad. I still ate it, mind you, but I didn’t understand her motivation. As a Slytherin, that made me uncomfortable. What did she have to gain from leaving it there for me? Did she know who I was? Or what I had done? After a month of scones, I stormed down into her shop.”

“Of course you did. Merlin forbid you accept kindness from a stranger,” Hermione scoffed at him.

“It turned out that the person who used to live in my flat was Anna’s grandson. He had just moved to Boston to attend university and he was utterly alone there. I guess I reminded her of him- a young man alone, in a new city. By taking care of me, even if it was just by leaving me a scone, she was doing her part in the hopes that someone else would look out for her grandson.”

Hermione nodded, enthralled by his sudden outburst of openness.

“We became a kind of duo after that,” Malfoy continued. “I cooked her dinner almost every evening and she continued to provide me with delicious pastries. Over dinner, she told me stories of her life. She was kind and caring, but not meek. She was a fierce witch and she was constantly rattling on about her causes. She had a particularly soft spot for centaurs. Anna was a bleeding heart if I ever saw one.”

“She sounds like an extraordinary woman,” Hermione said in a soft voice.

“She was,” he nodded. “Anna had strength that I grew to admire. She loved deeply and without hesitation. And if you got her started on those stupid centaurs, she would never shut up.”

“Centaurs aren’t stupid, Malfoy! They’ve been systematically abused by the Ministry, even after the war. Their land is constantly invaded by wizards who don’t care enough to learn how to properly interact with them. Of course they’ve got a reputation for violence- they’re defending the land that has been theirs for thousands of years!” Hermione finished her speech with a huff.

Malfoy stifled a laugh.

“Yes, that’s exactly what Anna said. You said she was extraordinary. She was. But she was also infuriating and sometimes single-mindedly dogged in her opinions. If she had gone to Hogwarts, the sorting hat wouldn’t have hesitated a second before sorting her in Gryffindor.”

“Yet you speak so affectionately of her.”

Malfoy took another step in her direction.

“Don’t tell my father, but I’ve grown rather fond of Gryffindors lately.”

Hermione tried to laugh, but his voice had taken on a dark, silky timbre that made her knees shake. Malfoy brought himself even closer. Her breasts brushed against his chest and she tilted her head up to look at him. Her brow furrowed at the intensity of his silver gaze.

“What do you feel right now?” his deep voice vibrated against her body.

She closed her eyes and focused. Hermione could feel her own emotions: hopefulness, desire and a hint of anxiety. She focused further and felt a new wave of emotions wash over her. The emotions were almost identical to her own, but they _felt_ different, like they had a different flavor.

Hermione opened her eyes and Malfoy’s face was mere millimeters from hers.

“Is this what you want, Hermione?”

“Yes,” she breathed and his lips crashed into hers.

Their kiss was white hot. Hermione felt his hands on her back, one sliding down and the other sliding up. His right hand moved to tangle in her hair and his left grasped her bum. When she opened her mouth in a moan, his tongue swept into her mouth and tangled with hers. Malfoy took a step forward, pushing her back onto the wall of the pub. He squared his hips with hers and she lifted one leg to wrap around his waist. Her hands were roaming across his chest and stomach, feeling the hard planes of his muscles. When his mouth disconnected from hers, he made his way down her neck and stopped in the hollow spot below her earlobe. He suckled and nibbled on the sensitive skin. Hermione rewarded him with a roll of her hips into his and his gasp echoed directly in her ear.

“Draco,” she panted, when his fingers touched the hot skin under her jumper. “We’re outside.”

“Mmm,” he hummed against her clavicle and his hands brushed her ribcage.

“Someone could-“she began, but stopped to bite back a groan when his fingers rounded over her bra. She let her head fall back against the wall and tried to gather her thoughts.

Hogsmeade. Public. People. Other professors. She would not shag Malfoy for the first time up against the wall of The Three Broomsticks.

“Draco,” she stopped him, placing a hand over his heart. “We can’t do this here.”

He sighed and nodded into her neck. With one last, quick kiss, he straightened up and grabbed her hand, linking their fingers. They walked back towards the entrance and right before the entered the door, Malfoy paused to bend his head down towards her ear.

“I like it when you call me Draco,” he murmured.

Hermione looked up at him and smiled.

\----------

The door to Draco’s apartment banged against the wall. He led Hermione inside and kicked the door shut with his foot. Their lips were connected in a searing kiss and his grip was tight around Hermione’s hips. They staggered into the bedroom and Draco warded the door with a flick of his wand.

“Contraceptive charm?” he asked.

“I’ve been on the potion since fifth year,” she responded.

Draco drew his head back and furrowed his brow. He had a wizard to murder now, he thought. Hermione must have recognized the look on his face because she tilted his chin to look him in the eye.

“You want to think about that _now_?”

Draco shook away the jealous beast roaring inside of him. He tossed his wand onto the bedside table and turned his attention back to the woman in his arms. Hermione was kissing and sucking at his pulse point, marking the tender skin there. He reluctantly pulled her away from him to take off her jumper, but was rewarded with the sight of her clad only in jeans and a black lacy bra. Draco leaned in to pepper her neck with hot, wet kisses. She dragged her nails through his scalp and whimpered at his touch. He was drunk off her moans and the feeling of her warm skin beneath his tongue. He rubbed his thumbs over her cloth-covered nipples, teasing them into hard points. Hermione reached around her back to unclasp her bra and his hungry eyes drank in the sight of her. She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him back to her chest. His tongue made a languid circle around the soft skin of her breast, without going where she wanted him.

“Draco,” she purred. “Please.”

The sound of her voice shot straight to his cock and he closed his mouth over her nipple. She threw her head back and her moan echoed around the room. His teeth pulled gently and his tongue flicked at her nipple. By the time he finished with one breast, Hermione was flushed and covered in a light sheen of sweat. She made quick work of the buttons of his shirt and slid it down his shoulders. Draco’s muscles danced under her touch as she dragged her fingers down his chest. She looped her fingers through the belt loops on his jeans and pulled him down onto the bed. He landed softly on top of her and she relished at the feel of his hard body on top of hers.

She felt his hard cock pressed against the apex of her thighs and rubbed against it. Draco choked out a curse and lowered himself down to kiss her stomach. He unbuttoned her jeans and she lifted her hips so he could pull them off her body and toss them on the ground. Hermione pulled his face back to hers and kissed him hungrily. Draco shuddered at the feeling of her soft breasts against his chest. His pants soon followed hers and Hermione reached down to trace the outline of his cock through his shorts. She delighted in the growl that came from his throat. Hermione pushed at his shoulders to switch positions and straddled him.

Draco tried to memorize the way she looked in that moment. Her chest was flushed and heaving, with small bead of sweat dripping down the valley of her breasts. Her eyes were ablaze with desire. Then she was kissing down his stomach and gave a long, wet lick to his cock that he could feel through the fabric of his shorts. She pulled them down his hips and threw them on the floor with their pants. Hermione dropped an open-mouthed kiss to the head of his cock and fluttered her tongue down the underside of his shaft. Draco panted heavily and tried not to come then and there.

“Fuck, Hermione,” he grunted. “You have to stop. I’ll-”

Hermione dropped her mouth down to the base of his cock. She sucked him on the upstroke and let him pop out of her mouth.

“Minx,” he murmured.

“I know.”

She smiled and crawled back up his long body. Draco dipped a slender finger beneath the band of her knickers and slid it over her wet pussy.

“Yes,” she hissed and rocked her hips once. Before she could repeat the action, Draco flipped and pinned her on her back, holding her wrists down on either side of her head. He leaned in to kiss her and tasted his pre-cum on her tongue. He let her wrists go to slip her knickers down her legs. Draco moved down to settle in between her thighs. He slid two fingers into her pussy and she felt her moisture drip down her thighs.

“Oh Merlin, Draco,” she gasped and dropped her head back.

He pumped his fingers a few times, before bending his head down to lick her clit. Hermione keened as his tongue swirled around her sensitive nub. His fingers pumped in rhythm with his mouth and she felt her climax building. Hermione reached down to lace her fingers in his soft hair and pulled him closer to her. Draco wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked gently causing Hermione to cry out. He continued to move his fingers inside of her and lightly nibbled on her swollen clit. Her cries were becoming louder and her back arched off the mattress.

Hermione’s vision turned to white as her veins filled with the fiery need for release. Her body began to shudder while her orgasm shot through her, rendering her incapable of anything but moaning Draco’s name like a prayer.

He kissed her one last time then made his way back up her body. He grabbed a hold of his cock and slid the tip up and down her sopping pussy.

“Is this what you want, Hermione?” he rasped, his voice husky with lust.

“Is this what _you_ want?” She tilted her hips to rub herself against him.

“Fuck, _yes_ , I want you.”

“Then take me.”

He inhaled sharply and sunk into her. Hermione cried out at the sensation of his thick cock filling her. He drew back and slammed into her again, causing her whole body to shift upwards. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, leaving behind little crescent shaped indents. Hermione shifted her hips forward so the head of his cock rubbed against her deliciously. Hermione’s pussy began to tighten around him and his thrusts were becoming desperate. She lifted her head up and placed a kiss under his ear.

“Make me yours, Draco. Make me scream your name,” she whispered. Hermione wrapped her hands around his back and held onto the muscles around his shoulder blades.

He groaned and dropped his head into the crook of her neck, pounding into her hard and fast. Liquid fire shot throughout her body, radiating from her sex. Her muscles were squeezing him tightly and she was rising quickly to the peak of her orgasm. With a hard thrust from Draco, her world exploded. She cried out his name as shockwaves exploded throughout her body.

Draco was still pumping into her when she came down from her orgasm.

“Come for me, Draco,” she cooed.

With that, he bit down on her neck and his cry vibrated across her skin.  Hermione felt his hot seed spurt into her and she stroked his back as he came back down. Draco lifted his head from the cradle of her neck and gave her a tender kiss.

He rolled face up onto the bed next to Hermione and pulled her into his embrace. She stretched out on her side and tangled a leg in between his.

“We can do that again, right?” Draco broke the silence.

“Definitely,” she laughed.

After a few minutes of Draco trying to stay awake and Hermione tracing little patterns on his stomach, she shot up out of bed.

“Wass happig?” he murmured, his voice gravelly with sleep.

“I think I know what bit Rebecca! I have to go to the library!”

She dropped to her hands and knees to search for her knickers. Draco leaned over the bed to see what she was doing and groaned at the image.

“Granger,” he began, trying to be a patient as possible. “It’s the middle of the night. You can’t get in the library. And now, thanks to this-" he waved his hand at her position on the floor, “-I can’t decide if I want to fuck you senseless or force you to sleep.”

Hermione looked over her shoulder and shook her bum at him.

“How about you fuck me until I fall asleep?” 


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione woke up the next morning wrapped in green sheets and Draco’s limbs. She untangled herself and leaned over the blonde head sleeping next to her. She placed a sweet kiss on his forehead and hobbled to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror and sighed. Her hair looked like she was electrocuted and there were several love bites down her neck and chest. She turned on the shower and stepped in.

Draco’s shower was exactly what she expected: Spartan. He had soap and shampoo, but that was it. Hermione turned the dial to the hottest setting and stepped in. She scrubbed her sore body with his soap, content with smelling like a man- her man- for the day. She was not content with Draco’s choice of shampoo, however. It was clear that good hair ran in his genes, because this stuff could turn anyone else’s hair to straw. She made a mental note to get him something nicer.

Hermione stepped out of the water stream and her back hit something warm and solid behind her. She smiled and rested her head against Draco’s chest.

“You have abysmal toiletries,” she greeted.

His laughter rumbled in his chest.

“You like hot showers.”

She nodded and turned to face him. His hair was sticking up every which way and his eyes were half-lidded with sleep. He had toothpaste on his cheek so she reached up to wipe it away. Draco nuzzled his cheek into her hand and kissed her palm. It was meant to be loving, but instead it set Hermione on fire. She pulled him in for a kiss which he happily reciprocated. She traced his teeth and the roof of his mouth with her tongue while his fingers teased her breasts. Hermione clutched at his biceps and backed herself against the wall of the shower. She hooked her leg around his waist and felt his growing erection press into her center.

“Are you sore?” Draco muttered against the skin of her neck.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to stop?” He looked at her seriously.

Hermione trailed her fingers down her breasts, pausing briefly to circle her nipples, then down her stomach. She massaged her clit then dipped her finger into her pussy. She broke eye contact with Draco when her eyes fell closed in pleasure. He growled and pulled her hand to his mouth. He gently sucked and lapped the flavor of her from her fingers. Hermione whimpered as his eyes burned into her. Draco slid two fingers into her and used his thumb to circle her nub. Hermione moaned and let her head fall back against the wall. He took advantage of her exposed skin and bit her throat, then lapped the mark with his tongue.

“I’m ready,” she panted.

Draco grabbed her other thigh to wrap around his hips. He held her tightly and pinned her completely against the wall. Hermione grasped his cock and pumped him a few times before bringing it to her entrance. With a snap of his hips, Draco was buried completely in her silken heat. Hermione rocked her hips in time with his thrusts. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him in for a kiss.

“Hermione,” he gasped. “I don’t know how much longer-”

She silenced him with a sweep of her tongue against his bottom lip. She brought one of her hands down to rub her clit in quick circles.

“Draco,” she moaned. “Fuck, Draco. I’m so close.”

He gathered his strength and gave her a few more brutal thrusts before losing himself in her. As he spiraled toward his orgasm, she invaded all his senses. Her soft touches drove him crazy, her moans burrowed themselves into his skull, and the taste of her sweet mouth left him craving more. The sight of her spread out against his shower, head thrown back in bliss made him quiver, and the smell of her clean skin surrounded him. Draco’s orgasm barreled through him and he unraveled against his lover.

His hot come rippled through Hermione and she cried out her pleasure. Her pussy pulsed against his cock as fireworks exploded behind her eyelids.

 ----------

Hermione pulled on one of Draco’s t-shirts and her Scourgified knickers and padded out to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She reached up to grab the kettle from the shelf when the sound of a throat clearing rang through the empty flat. She whipped around and was greeted with the sight of Harry Potter sitting in Draco’s armchair, fidgeting with his wand.

At that moment, Draco walked out his bedroom, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts. His eyes widened a fraction at the two friends staring at each other then he nodded in Harry’s direction.

“Potter,” he greeted. “Did you find the kettle, Hermione?”

He walked over to her and took the kettle from her hands. He set filled it with water and set it on the stove.

“Harry Potter, what on _earth_ are you doing here?” Hermione demanded, having finally found her voice.

“I could ask you the same thing, Hermione. Why are you in Draco’s apartment wearing a t-shirt that says ’Slytherins do it better’? I mean, I think I know, but I’d like to hear it from you in case my mind is playing dirty tricks on me.”

The door to Draco’s flat swung open and Ron walked in.

“Oy, Harry! Breakfast is ready! Did you figure out where Hermione was yet?”

“Yes, I believe I did,” Harry answered his friend.

“Good morning, Ron,” Hermione sighed. “I guess I’ll go and find some pants.”

Draco laughed at the shades of red that splashed across Weasley’s face. She emerged from his room a few minutes later, still wearing that ridiculous shirt Pansy bought him and a pair of his sweat pants. A primal urge slithered through Draco when he saw her dressed head to toe in his clothing, with her skin still pink from their shower. He wondered how long the dastardly duo would be in his flat. He had plans to fuck Hermione against every surface in the room, including the couch that Potter was perched on. Draco felt a familiar tingle below the belt and tried to clear his mind. It probably wouldn’t make a spectacular impression to sport a raging erection at the moment… not that he cared what Potter and Weasley would think, but Hermione would and that’s what mattered.

Just when Draco had managed to clear most of the sinful thoughts from his mind, Hermione passed in front of him and he caught a whiff of her. She had clearly used his soap this morning, because in addition to her usual fresh scent, he caught undertones of _him_. Draco groaned and everyone turned their attention to him.

“So, Potter, Weasley, may I ask what you’re doing in my living room?” he broke the ice.

“Yes,” Potter began slowly. “I suppose that’s fair. You have a missing student so Minerva called the Aurors in to investigate. She mentioned that Hermione might have some vital information so I performed a tracking spell which led me here, to your flat. I’ve been on your couch since the middle of the night. I tried to wake you, but your door was warded- _heavily_ warded, might I point out. If Minerva hadn’t sworn up and down that you were a changed man, I might be suspicious.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, making it clear that the Headmistress’s assurance only went so far.

“You should be grateful for my wards, Potter, or you might have seen more of Hermione than you ever wanted to,” Draco replied, his voice dangerously low.

 Harry’s face paled and he opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione interrupted.

“Honestly, you two. What I do in my free time is hardly important right now. Who is missing, Harry?”

“Rebecca Stanley, first year Gryffindor,” Ron piped up from his corner by the door.

“No,” Hermione murmured. “No.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she sank onto ground.

Ron moved to comfort Hermione, but before he could make his way to her, Draco was on his knees in front of her.

“We were supposed to protect her,” she whispered. “I let myself get distracted. I let her down. Draco, we have to find her,” she choked out.

He cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed the single tear that slid down her face.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Ron barked.

He had taken a seat next to Harry, who was rubbing his forehead and muttering something that sounded an awful lot like “ferret.”

Draco turned to answer him.

“Rebecca got bit by some kind of werewolf. We’ve been helping her with the transitions and trying to find the person- or thing- responsible.”

“I don’t care about the sodding wolf-child!” Ron bellowed and his face turned a particularly sickening shade of puce. “Why is Hermione here? Why is she letting you touch her? And why the _fuck_ is she wearing that shirt?”

“Hermione can speak for herself, thank you!” she shrieked. Draco hadn’t seen her eyes take on such a menacing glint since their time as students. “Ronald, you are here to find that ‘sodding wolf-child’ so don’t you dare speak about her like that! As for why I’m here, I should think it would be obvious considering Lavender is nearly eight months pregnant! I don’t think I need to explain the mechanics, now do I?”

Ron looked down and fiddled with the edge of his Auror’s robe.

“Hermione,” Draco started, taking advantage of the momentary silence. “Didn’t you have some kind of revelation last night?”

“For the love of Godric, Malfoy. Do we really have to talk about what you do behind closed doors?” Harry blanched.

“Oh! Yes!” Hermione clapped her hands together and ran into his bedroom to grab a piece of parchment, smacking Harry on the back of his head on her way.

“Hey!” Harry rubbed the back of his head.

She returned and took a seat beside the coffee table, tucking her legs underneath so she could write on the hard surface. She started writing furiously, and when Ron leaned in to sneak a peak, he reared his head back.

“Hermione, what language is that?”

“Japanese,” she muttered and ended to note with a flourish of her quill.

“And where exactly did you learn Japanese?” Harry asked in a high-pitched voice.

“Honestly, you two. I wasn’t called ‘The Brightest Witch of Her Age’ for nothing. What do you think I do in my spare time? Play Exploding Snap?” she scoffed.

“No, apparently you learn complicated Asian languages for fun,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

Draco’s chest swelled with pride; Hermione was beautiful _and_ brilliant- and all his.

“Ron, be a dear and go run this to the Owlery for me?”

Ron grumbled but got up to obey Hermione. One of her outbursts was enough for one day.

“Now what?” Draco asked her.

“Now we wait.”

\----------

After three cups of tea and awkward silence, there was a _tap tap_ on Draco’s kitchen window.

Hermione jumped up to let the owl in and tore open the letter attached to its leg.

“Yes!” she exclaimed then turned to Draco. “Can you send a patronus to Luna? I can catch these two up while we wait.”

He stepped outside to send the message.

“I wonder what his patronus is,” Ron wondered. “I bet it’s a ferret.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and began the long chore of catching the Aurors up to date.

“So you and Neville were attacked? By something with a wand?” Harry asked a few moments later and ruffled his messy black hair. “Wouldn’t it have to be a human if it could use a wand? So what’s the great mystery?”

“Yes, Harry, exactly!” Hermione bobbed up and down on her toes. “Why would a random wizard attack us in the forest? It had to be related to Rebecca.”

“So you don’t actually know?” Ron’s exasperated voice pleaded.

Draco came back into the room with Luna and Neville behind him. After quick hellos, Hermione continued.

“I _do_ know! I had to be sure, but now I’m nearly certain. Have you ever heard of a kitsune?”

Silence.

“In Japanese mythology, a kitsune is fox spirit that can take the shape of a human. They’re fiercely intelligent and known to be quite the little tricksters.”

“But Rebecca is a _wolf_ , Hermione,” Harry reminded her.

She felt her patience dwindling to a dangerous level so she took a clearing breath.

“Yes. I know. That’s why I sent this letter.” She held up the parchment scribbled with Japanese. “I lived with a Japanese witch at university. According to her,” she began to read from the letter, “’kitsune are very real. Their magic is ancient and powerful.’ They are basically reverse Animagi. These foxes learn how to transform themselves into humans. It’s simply amazing.”

The majority of her companions stared blankly at her.

“Is it possible?” Draco asked her. “Luna did say that a runt went missing. Hermione, you’re absolutely brilliant.” His words ran together with excitement.

Ron grunted. “If someone doesn’t tell me what the bloody hell these two are rambling about, I’m going to-”

“Ron, don’t you see? Animals can learn to take the shape of humans. It’s rare, because the animals must be extremely intelligent. But the product of two werewolves is a wolf with near human intelligence. That, coupled with the magic it may have inherited from its parents…” Hermione trailed off.

Luna gasped and finished Hermione’s train of thought.

“It’s a like a kitsune- a magical animal with the ability to become human. Its werewolf genes gave it the intelligence and desire to bite, while its parentage gave it magical ability. When these qualities combine, it’s totally plausible that the wolf could learn to change like the kitsune.”

Luna, Hermione and Draco’s minds whirled while the others caught up.

“So you’re telling me,” Harry clarified, “that a hyper-intelligent werewolf that can shift into a human has kidnapped Rebecca, the girl it bit and infected?”

The other three nodded.

“Shit,” Ron breathed. 


	8. Chapter 8

Aurors in billowing black robes descended upon Hogwarts to scour the forests for Rebecca. By Tuesday, Hermione was ready to pull her hair out with frustration. After a meeting with the Headmistress, Hermione was asked to give a short presentation to the _guests._ She was expecting a group of attentive, respectful wizards, but instead she was graced with the presence of ten miserable faces. They didn’t take well to having a professor, and a woman at that, tell them how to do their job. Thank goodness that Harry and Ron at least knew what to look for, Hermione thought as she huffed down the hallway after dinner. As she rounded the corner, a long arm shot out and pulled her into an alcove.

“What the bloody-” she shrieked when a large hand clapped over her mouth. She was pressed face first into the wall with a tall body pushed into her back. 

“You’re a little tease, you know that _Professor_?” a gravelly voice taunted in her ear. “I watched you eat five strawberries before I had to excuse myself from dinner tonight. Every _fucking_ time you dipped one in cream, you licked a little dollop off the tip. Do you know how many men were watching you tonight? I wanted to pin you down on the table and fuck you in front of everyone, just to show them what’s _mine._ ”

Hermione’s face flushed and she ground her arse against him.

“So what are you going to do about it, ProfessorMalfoy _?”_ she taunted back, moaning when she felt his cock hardening further against her bum. He turned her around and shoved her back against the cool stone.

“For starters, I’m going to fuck that smirk off your swotty little mouth,” he growled out and slammed his lips into hers. His kiss was possessive and aggressive, and it lit a fire in Hermione’s belly. Draco ripped her professor’s robe open and it pooled around her feet. He shoved his thigh in between her legs and she rubbed herself on it. He swallowed her moans with a deep kiss.

The sound of footfalls came from the hallway and the two froze in place, trying to control the sounds of their heavy breathing.

“Did you see Professor Granger at dinner?” the pitchy voice of a boy in the midst of puberty asked his companion. “She’s fit for a Mudblood.”

Draco stiffened and he rubbed Hermione’s arms soothingly.

“Don’t let Professor Malfoy hear you say that,” an older voice warned. “I heard he gave Brogden two weeks detention scrubbing cauldrons for even insinuating she might not be worthy of teaching here. Some of the older Slytherins are saying he fancies himself a taste of her, the way he’s always watching her.”

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him. Draco just shrugged and swooped down to place a kiss on her swollen lips.

“So you punished a student?” she asked when the coast was clear.”When?”

“I was reminding him of his detention when McGonagall’s patronus summoned us about Rebecca.”

“We weren’t sleeping together then.”

“No… where is this going, Hermione?” Draco tucked an errant curl behind her ear.

“We haven’t really talked about us, well, at all,” she paused before continuing in a timid voice. “I don’t know how you see me.”

 “How I see you?” Draco echoed. “I see you as Hermione.”

“Not Potter’s Mudblood Granger?”

He sighed and clasped her hand in his, lacing their fingers.

“No. I’ve drove myself mad trying to recall at what moment you stopped being _that_. Now you’re just you- smart, stubborn, sexy. Just Hermione.”

That answer seemed to satisfy her, because she kissed him lightly on the cheek and pulled him out from the alcove.

“Were we finished back there?” Draco called after her. “I know I wasn’t! I had some very specific and very devious plans for you, Granger!”

Hermione turned to walk backwards and beckoned him with a crook of her finger.

“I have a better idea, Mr. Malfoy.” She winked at him, turned around and sped up her pace.

Draco grumbled after her as she led him through the twists and turns of the castle. He nearly collided into her when Hermione stopped abruptly and peered up at him with a seductive grin. He looked at the heavy wooden doors in front of them.

“The library? I swear to Merlin, Granger, if you’re going to go _research_ right now, my bollocks will burst.”

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” Hermione dragged a single finger down the front of his robes the tufting the fabric in her grip. She pulled him even closer to her body and sent a wordless unlocking spell at the doors.

“You’re quite the little temptress, you know that?” Draco husked as she dragged him into the library and spelled the doors shut. He looked around and noticed it was completely empty. “Where are all the students?”

“Curfew,” Hermione mumbled as she unclasped his robes and tossed them on a table.

“So no one’s going to walk in on us?” Draco checked as she slid her tongue up his Adam’s apple.

“Nope.” Hermione sucked at the hollow spot at the base of his throat.

At that reassurance, he swiftly deposited Hermione on the table and hiked her skirt up around her thighs. He stepped into the space between her legs and trailed his fingers up her legs. Hermione vanished their shirts and her bra with a swish of her wand and ripped at Draco’s belt while his fingers danced a heavenly dance up her inner thighs. She nibbled at his earlobe and willed his fingers to go just a bit higher. When Draco encountered her wet slit, he dropped his forehead on hers.

“Hermione,” he groaned. “Where are your knickers?”

“Your pocket,” she whimpered as his index finger slid into her.

“In my pocket? When did you do that?”

“Seventh period,” she answered, followed by a long, keening moan when the thick pad of his thumb pressed into her clit. Hermione quickly unzipped his pants and pumped his cock firmly, causing a little ball of pre-cum to gather on the tip. She swept her finger across it to bring to her mouth to taste.

“Salazar _fucking_ Slytherin,” Draco growled and pushed her skirt all the way up to gather around her hips. He gripped at her thighs and tilted her back so she was leaning on her elbows. With a quick tug, Hermione was perched on the edge of the table, breasts heaving high in the air. Draco gave her nipple a tug with his teeth and pulled at the other with his skillful fingers. Hermione snaked her arms around his waist to grip his bum and hauled him closer so his cock bobbed against her center. Their lips met as he thrust into her, sinking into her hot, wet pussy.

“You’ll be the death of me, woman,” Draco murmured against Hermione’s lips and she cried out as he ground his hips into her. Her nails were digging into his arse as her grip tightened, but all he cared about was seeing her breasts bounce with each pump of his cock.

“Oh God,” she mewled. “Fuck. Draco, oh shit. Don’t stop. Oh Merlin, don’t stop.”

It would’ve taken Old Voldemort himself to make Draco stop thrusting into her, but he couldn’t form the words to assure her, so he drove himself even harder into the delectable witch writhing below him. Hermione tensed as her muscles began to milk his cock and she let out a long whine. A bead of sweat dripped down his nose and landed on her flushed chest while he spilled into her.

Draco collapsed onto Hermione and they stayed like that for several minutes as the heat in their veins cooled. She pushed the fringe from his face and raked her nails down his scalp while he listened to the heavy beating of her heart. He was felt the lull of sleep pull at his consciousness when a bright light shot into the library. A stag leaped over the table and landed to his right.

“Hermione,” Potter’s voice spoke through the animal. “I’m assuming since I can’t find you with a tracking spell and no one has seen Malfoy since dinner that the two of you are off committing unspeakable acts together.  I think we found something. Come to Hagrid’s as soon as you put some clothes on- preferably ones that belong to you.”

The patronus dissolved into silvery dust and evaporated.

“That Potter’s got a mouth on him,” Draco commented, reluctant to leave Hermione’s warm body.

“Oh, that was nothing. You should have heard him during fifth year. Ron and I were never sure when Harry was going to snap.” She pushed his shoulders so she could slither out from underneath him. Draco groaned as he stood up to find his clothing.

After Hermione magicked their clothing back together, except for her knickers (which Draco refused to return, claiming finder’s rights) they were on their way to Hagrid’s hut.

\----------

About 500 meters into the forest, the Aurors had stumbled across a little shack. Harry brought Hermione and Draco out to see it and get their opinions. Inside, they found a small fire pit and a pile of blankets. It was unremarkable, except for the Gryffindor tie lying in the middle of the floor.

“What do you think?” Harry asked after a few minutes of silence.

“It definitely looks like she was here,” Hermione provided. “But it seems like our kidnapper is providing at least the basics for Rebecca. The blankets look slept in and there was recently a fire lit.”

“So it’s a caring kidnapper?” Draco hypothesized and the two nodded in silence.

Harry walked them back to the edge of the forest so they could return to the castle before the sun set.

“Hermione!” he called out as she was walking away. “Can’t wait to see your costume!”

She turned around slowly.

“What?”

“Isn’t tomorrow the Halloween Ball? McGonagall said she wasn’t going to cancel it- y’know, keep spirits up and all that. She did ask the Aurors to be there, though, as a calming presence.”

“Oh, bollocks,” Hermione muttered and continued her climb up to the castle with Draco a step behind her.

\----------

Luna arrived at Hermione’s flat at six o’clock in the evening.

“I don’t see why the teachers have to dress up for this stupid dance,” Hermione grumbled while Luna waved her wand at Hermione’s wardrobe.

“Think of it like this,” Luna posed. “This is your chance to dress up. Surely when you were a little girl, you played dress up? Well now, you have magic to prepare any costume you could possibly want. So tell me, Hermione, what did you always want to be?”

“A genie,” Hermione replied without hesitation. “There was a show my dad and I used to watch together and the genie had the prettiest pink outfit.”

With a few more wand waves, Hermione was dressed and her hair was neatly piled on top of her head in a braid. She wove her hairpin through it and stood back to appraise her new look.

“It’s perfect!” Luna exclaimed, adjusting her own costume. She was dressed as some kind of water sprite, with a flowing blue gown and pretty white wings. “I have to go help Neville, but I’ll see you at the Ball!”

Luna skipped out the door and Hermione quickly lined her eyes in black liner, with a subtle flick at the corner of her eyes. With a dusting of glittering honey power from Honeydukes, she was ready to go when Draco knocked on her door.

She used her wand to let him in, still hiding in her bedroom. She hollered for him to sit while she summoned the last of her Gryffindor courage. With a crack, Hermione Apparated into her living room directly in front of Draco, who was lounging on the couch.

“Hello Master,” she greeted and fluttered her eyelashes.

Draco’s jaw dropped as he drank Hermione in. She was wearing some kind of pink, frothy costume. Her breasts were pushed together, encased in a tiny, silk top that left the long line of her torso exposed. Her creamy skin glittered with gold flecks and her pants were barely pants at all. They were gathered at her waist and her ankles, but a long slit ran up the sides, leaving the outside of her legs bare. She wore simple gold sandals and a little pink hat with a veil attached. For the first time in his life, Draco felt truly speechless. Hermione held his hands to pull him up off the couch and looked him up and down.

“What are you?” she asked and cocked her head to the side. He didn’t respond. “Draco.” She shook him a little. “Hello?”

“Yeah,” he breathed and blinked a few times to clear his mind of the sensual fog that swirled around his brain.  “Uh, I’m Zorro. See?” he pointed to the simple black mask resting on his pale hair.

And what a sexy Zorro he was, Hermione thought. He was wearing all black and his shirt was slightly frilled at the collar and sleeves. His pants were snug and she was filled with the sudden desire to bite down on his well-shaped arse. For once in _her_ life, she was grateful to the ridiculous sport of Quidditch for giving her man the body and the stamina that she planned to exploit later that night. After several more minutes of eye-fucking each other, the two held hands and made their way to the Great Hall.

It was decorated spectacularly in black and orange, with several of Hagrid’s giant pumpkins taking up the center of the room. There were two long tables of refreshments and Draco ignored the two Slytherins pouring firewhiskey in the giant punch bowl. The air smelled spicy and sweet, like snickerdoodle cookies. Everyone was too busy enjoying themselves to notice them enter, but when the seventh year boys saw Hermione, a wave of whispers crashed over the Great Hall.

Now Draco was a selfish and possessive man. He had come to accept this about himself and didn’t see the use of changing it. However, he was also a man of pride and these two aspects of him warred when the young men in attendance focused their attention on Hermione. He couldn’t decide whether to bare his teeth and growl at them like some kind of animal, or let them drool, knowing _he_ would be balls deep in her in a matter of hours. He opted for a compromise and pulled her in for a dark, sensual kiss. She melted into him, molding her body closely against his and snuck a tiny grab at his bum.

“Come on, Hermione! Is that necessary?” Draco heard a particularly ginger-sounding voice cry out in frustration. With reluctance, Draco released her lips, but gave a sneaky lick down the nape of her neck. Hermione’s skin tasted like honey and he was quite sure he would gladly lick it off her in front of the entire Weasley clan, if need be.

Ron’s face paled at the death glare Hermione shot his way and turned to welcome Harry and the band of Aurors behind him. The usually surly officers greeted her with vigor and she raised her eyebrow suspiciously. When she followed their mutual gaze down to her chest, she rolled her eyes and pulled Draco’s arm around her waist. The Aurors quickly lost interest and set about patrolling the large room, and Draco and Hermione wandered over to the punchbowl to partake in the spiked drink.

“I don’t know if we should drink this,” Hermione said and peered skeptically in her glass.

“Come on, Granger. The more we drink, the less the students can drink,” Draco reasoned and took a long gulp. He licked his lips and winked at her.

“I suppose even I can’t argue with that logic,” she giggled and took a swig.

Draco pretended not to notice to waves of boys passing by Hermione to gawk when a question floated across his mind.

“Yesterday, did you say you put your knickers in my pocket during seventh period?”

She looked up at him with her big brown eyes and smiled innocently.

“Yes.”

“Don’t you teach during seventh period?”

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed while taking a sip from her cocktail.

He took a step toward her and bent his head to whisper, “Tell me how you did that, you clever little witch.”

Her warm breath tickled his ear as she explained the mechanics of the spell she invented. “It’s like a vanishing spell, but I can control where the item goes. So while I was sitting at my desk, I pulled my knickers off and sent them to your pocket.” She ended her explanation with a gentle flick of her tongue against the shell of Draco’s ear.

Instead of responding, he grabbed her by the hand and led her quickly out of the Great Hall. He took a sharp right at the doors and dragged her outside into the cold night air. Goose bumps erupted over Hermione’s exposed skin and she let out a little gasp when Draco pushed her against the chilled brick wall of the castle. The rough stone scratched at her back, but when his soft lips pulled at hers, the complaint flew from her mind.

His mouth worked over hers like he was a starving man and her lips were his only sustenance. He gently bit at her pouty bottom lip and then soothed it with his tongue. She opened her mouth to him and their tongues tangled in desperation. He was growing drunk off her again and he felt his control slipping with every little moan and sigh she made. He ghosted his hands down her sides and pulled her hips into his. One of her hands was tangled in his hair, while the other explored the muscles in his chest. Her hands met as she rubbed at his cock through his pants and they parted to gasp for breath. Their arousal was intensified by the pin Hermione wore in her hair, each feeding off the feeling of other’s dizzying need. Draco clasped his hands on her plump arse to haul her up against the wall, but the sound of cracking branches grabbed his attention. When he stopped moving, Hermione whimpered and rubbed her center against him.

“Wait,” he whispered, almost undetectably quiet. “Listen.”

The sounds grew louder so Draco turned around the shield Hermione from vision. Out twenty meters or so was a pair of glowing, blue eyes. It was too dark to make out the rest of the creature, but Draco knew who had joined them. He raised his wand, ready to blast the animal to bits when Hermione grabbed his arm.

“No!” she warned. “The one who attacked us didn’t have blue eyes. Wait.”

He obeyed and ignored the steady rise in his heartbeat as the eyes moved closer to them. Before it got close enough to make out, the creature stopped moving and the air around it began to swirl. Wind came from nowhere to surround them and it crackled with magic.

From the midst of the wind, the small figure of a girl bound forward towards them.

“Professors!”

Draco and Hermione froze and stared at a naked, but seemingly safe and happy Rebecca. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The word kitsune will be appearing quite a bit from now on. If you are like me, you will want to pronounce it correctly in your mind. It is indeed Japanese (狐)and it is pronounced kit-su-nay.

Hermione rushed forward to embrace Rebecca.

“Where on earth have you been? Are you alright? Do you need to see the nurse?” Hermione assaulted the girl with questions. Draco pulled off his shirt and transfigured it into a cloak to cover the nude girl.

“We should alert the Aurors, Hermione,” he called to her.

Hermione’s otter patronus swirled in the air around Draco before floating into the castle.

“I’m okay, Professor Granger,” Rebecca reassured her and Hermione pulled the cloak tight around her.

Harry and his Aurors came running out of the castle and whisked the girl away. When they reached the castle doors, Harry shouted at Hermione and Draco over his shoulder.

“Come to the Headmistress’s office in ten minutes!”

An unsettling calm fell upon the grounds as the chaos died away.

“Did you…” Hermione began, then cleared her throat. “Did you see what she did?”

He nodded.

Hermione shivered and Draco pulled her into a hug. He tried very hard not to think of her breasts pushed against his bare skin and what they were doing before Rebecca showed up… but then Hermione placed a sweet kiss on his chest and her soft breath tickled his skin.

“Hermione,” he whispered in a strangled voice. She hummed and nuzzled against the warm muscles jumping under her lips. “As much as I want to finish what we started, Rebecca needs you. Believe me, I want to tell Potter to sod off, but-“

“I know,” she sighed softly and headed back for the castle. Draco stared at the spot Rebecca transformed for a moment then caught up with her.

\----------

A motley crew sat around a large table in the Headmistress’s office. On one side of the table were the disgruntled Aurors, along with the concerned pair of Harry and Ron. Rebecca and McGonagall sat at the head. Hermione, Draco, Luna and Dean Thomas, who was the current head of Gryffindor House and the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, sat on the side opposite of the team of Aurors.

Hermione needed to distract herself from the nervous energy coursing through her bones. She looked to the men on either side of her and suddenly felt very small. Draco was at least six feet tall and Dean was only a hair shorter. When she hugged Draco earlier, the top of her head didn’t even come to his chin. He had a faint trace of stubble along his jaw and Hermione decided she liked it. He was already quite masculine, with his tall and muscular build, but the stubble made him look like he had just come in from taming dragons. Draco must have sensed her eyes on him, because he looked at her from the corner of his eyes. She flushed and looked down. He chuckled quietly and placed his hand on her knee.

“Alright, everyone,” Harry’s gathered the room’s attention. “I think we’re all on pins and needles here, so Rebecca, why don’t you tell us what happened?”

“During the full moon, Professor Malfoy and I went out to the forest to help Professor Granger and Neville- er, Professor Longbottom,” she blushed. “She must have caught my scent that night. The next night after dinner, I was walking by the Black Lake and a woman came up to me. She told me to follow her and I had to obey. I mean, I knew I shouldn’t but I _had_ to. She took me to a beautiful little cottage and told me to sleep. I fell asleep right away, which was weird because it was still early. The next day she performed some kind of spell that turned me into my wolf-self and then she turned into a wolf too! We explored the forest and, Professor Granger, it was amazing!” She turned to face Hermione. “The smells and sounds- and I could see _everything_! That night she showed me how to change at will. Her magic was different than mine- it was raw and a bit terrifying to be honest. Once I mastered the change, she told me to go and my feet were moving before I even thought about it. That’s when I saw- er, you two.” She nodded toward Hermione and Draco.

The table fell deep into thought while Rebecca shifted in her seat.

“Can I go?” she asked. “I’d really like a bath.”

Harry nodded and sent her to Gryffindor Tower with an Auror.

“Harry,” Luna said. “Rebecca said she was only gone for a night and day in a cottage, but it was nearly five days in a shack. It also sounded like this woman used some kind of Imperius curse.”

“I’d like to go to the library, if that’s alright with everyone,” Hermione excused herself. Harry waved her off and signaled for Draco to follow.

Once outside the Headmistress’s office, she turned to Draco with wide, excited eyes.

“We have a lot of research to do.”

He sighed and followed her to her favorite spot in Hogwarts.

\----------

Draco pushed open the library doors and took a seat at the closest table. Hermione grabbed his arm to drag him away.

“No, not that one.”

“Why?” he asked, thoroughly confused why one table would be any better than another.

“Draco!”

“Hermione!” he mocked.

“We- that- Draco, we can’t study _here_. We had sex on this table!”

“Oh. How do you remember which table it was? Seems like an odd thing to remember.”

“How can you not remember?!” In addition to being completely flabbergasted, she was now teetering on the edge of annoyance.

“I was a little preoccupied!” he defended. “But now that you mention it, this table does seem worldlier than the others.”

“You’re impossible,” she muttered and pulled him to his feet. “Back there,” she pointed toward the Restricted Section.

Once Hermione was comfortably surrounded by old tomes, she looked up at Draco. He was intently reading a book on animal transfiguration.

“Did you hear Rebecca call Neville by his first name?” she interrupted his train of thought.

“Mmm,” he hummed in agreement and continued to study the text in front of him.

“Isn’t that strange?”

Draco closed the book slowly, careful to mark his place.

“Neville doesn’t like to be called ‘Professor.’ He says he likes to keep his classes casual and unintimidating. Something to do with Snape, I think. We only discussed it briefly.”

“How often do you talk to Neville?”

“We fish.”

“You _fish_? Isn’t that a little plebian for a Malfoy?”

Draco tapped his index fingernail on the desk and took a deep breath. He fought the urge to throw his book at her.

“Longbottom and I have gone fishing in the Black Lake every weekend since the beginning of school.” Hermione’s jaw dropped and the book she was holding clattered down on the table. “Now, we have research to do, remember? You’re favorite thing in the entire world? Shouldn’t we get back to it?”

“Alright…” she answered slowly, unsure how to process this revelation.

After a few more minutes of silent reading, Draco spoke up.

“According to this,” he waved the small, red book in his hand, “kitsune have the ability to transform their appearance as well as the perception of others. That explains the cottage Rebecca saw instead of the hovel we found.”

Hermione jotted it down and they continued on.

Another hour had passed when Hermione did a little jig in her seat.

“Kitsune can manipulate time!” she exclaimed as she wrote it down in her notes.

Harry and Ron found them only a few minutes later. They had sandwiches and a large goblet of pumpkin juice.

“Oh, bless you!” Hermione greeted and began to pile a plate high with food. She chewed happily while Draco explained their progress to the boys.

“As much as I appreciate the endless list of facts…” Ron started. Hermione snorted into her juice. “…I thought we were dealing with a hyper-intelligent werewolf. Now you’re telling me it really _is_ a kitsune?”

“Technically, kitsune just means ‘fox’ in Japanese. It’s the folklore that surrounds the fox that produces such tales,” Hermione answered while Harry adjusted his glasses in preparation for a lecture. “So really, any animal with the proper threshold of intelligence and personality could acquire these traits. The characteristics of mischievousness and slyness are just that: characteristics- specifically of a fox. What I’m most fascinated by is the magic. This wolf-woman, whoever she is, learned extraordinary magic for never attending an educational institution.”

“But it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Draco posed to Hermione. “All these magical abilities are evolutionary. She’s simply adapted her magic to fit her needs. We see this type of behavior in magical children all the time. Little Johnny can’t reach the cookie on the table so he grows another foot or shrinks the table.”

“Little Harry can’t get rid of his annoying Aunt so he blows her up,” Ron provided.

“Sure?” Draco dragged out.

“What we need to do is separate out the folklore from the truth,” Hermione adopted her professor voice. “Harry, take notes.” She tossed her parchment at him. “Foxes are naturally sly and known tricksters, but wolves aren’t. I don’t think our woman is either; she didn’t play any tricks on Rebecca. She used her magic to keep her safe and happy. Rebecca thought she was only gone for a single day, so she wasn’t terribly worried or starving and she thought she was safe from the forest in a proper cottage. Ron, go find a book on wolves, will you? Characteristics and the like?”

Ron scrambled over to the section Hermione was pointing at.

Draco observed in awe at the perfected coordination between the three of them. No wonder they managed to get into so much trouble… and bring down the darkest wizard of all time, he thought. He observed Hermione in what he could only describe as ‘the zone.’ She was hunched over a book, hair frizzing at her temples, fingers scratching absentmindedly at the tabletop. She really was a little swot, he reflected with a crooked smile. Just when the thought crossed his mind, she looked up and gave him a saucy wink. He laughed and readjusted his assessment to “sexy little swot.”

Ron returned and tossed a book on the table with a thud, causing dust to waft through the air. Harry picked it up and began reading.

“Alright, someone copy this down,” he said and looked pointedly at Draco, who was now leaning back on his chair. “Wolves are social… they make emotional relationships with their pack….” His finger skimmed down the page. “They have an aversion to aggression…extremely intelligent… yada yada yada… form intense bonds with their packs…huh,” he paused. “Wolves find it incredibly difficult to survive without a pack.”

“She had no pack,” Hermione gasped. “That’s what she wants. That’s why she bit Rebecca. It isn’t in a wolf’s nature to be aggressive.”

“Tell that to Fenrir Greyback,” Ron bit out.

“Greyback was a _were_ wolf, Ronald. We keep calling our wolf a woman, but she isn’t. Not really, anyways. She’s a wolf, first and foremost. She can only appear as a human because of her magic.”

“Hermione,” Harry blurted out. “If she wants a pack, why would she only infect Rebecca?”

“She wouldn’t,” Draco answered. “She’s not finished.”

The foursome launched themselves from the table and began the long trek to the Headmistress’s office. When they finally reached their destination, they skidded to a halt. In front of the staircase stood McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had been Minister of Magic since the war ended, and Dean Thomas. Dean was wringing his hands while Kingsley paced back and forth, listening to McGonagall.  

“Oh, good, one less patronus to send,” McGonagall said when she noticed their presence. “Make your way to the Hospital Wing. We found another student. Luna is with her now, along with Ginny Potter and Padma Patil.”

“Ginny?” Harry asked.

“She’s one of the most talented Healers at St. Mungo’s, is she not, Mr. Potter?” McGonagall replied in a clipped voice. “Now off you go.”

Dean joined the four as they turned to head toward the infirmary.

“They called in a Healer,” Hermione spoke softly.

“And a curse-breaker,” Dean informed them. “Padma is one of the best curse-breakers in the entire history of the Ministry.”

“What’s her specialty?” Draco asked.

“The Imperius,” Harry answered and scratched the scar on his forehead. 


	10. Chapter 10

Ginny spoke as soon as the professors entered the infirmary.

“This is Bryony Parkinson, a sixth year Slytherin. She was found by her boyfriend, a seventh year Ravenclaw about an hour ago. She has no major wounds, except for the bite. Unfortunately, the nurse here isn’t quite as skilled as Madam Pomfrey was, and she was having trouble closing the wound.”

“Did you say Parkinson?” Malfoy paled considerably.

“Yes, Bryony is Pansy’s sister. Now that I’ve closed wounds, she is technically healed and out of my care.”

 “So she’s okay?” Harry asked and walked closer to Bryony.

“No, Harry, she’s not _okay_. Whoever bit her also placed her under a seriously unstable form of the Imperius curse. I’ve placed her in a magically induced coma until Padma can break the curse or until one of you can find the person, or thing I suppose, responsible. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower. Harry, McGonagall said we have a room here?”

Harry nodded and showed Ginny out.

After a few moments of silent gawking at the patient, Padma emerged from the nurse’s office and walked over to the remaining group.

“Hey, Padma,” Hermione greeted. “What can you tell us about the curse?”

“It’s one of the most complex spells I’ve come across. It has traces of the Imperius curse, but there is more to it. When a person is under an _Imperio_ , they are compelled to do things whether want to or not. But this… Rebecca told me she _wanted_ to obey. When we found Bryony, she was fighting us to return to the forest. She was desperate to get back. I wouldn’t have known she was under the influence of any spells unless I knew ahead of time. Her boyfriend even had to stun her to get her into the castle. I’m working to understand the curse so I can break it, but it would be incredibly helpful if you lot could find the woman responsible. There’s a chance I won’t be able to break it, so we would need the caster to do it. Do you have any leads?”

Ron shook his head.

“Not really. We know what she is and what she wants, but we don’t know how to contact her- if it’s even possible.”

“It has to be possible,” Hermione stated, a determined glint flickering in her eyes. “We’ll find her, Padma. Our best chance is the new moon next week. She waited a full month before seeking out Rebecca, but we may be able to catch her on the move to find her next pack member.”

“I really hate waiting,” Ron grumbled and crossed his arms.

_______

Hermione liked things tidy; that was no secret. From her bookshelf to her bathroom cabinet, she had a place for everything. The fact that her living room was currently playing host to eight of her former classmates and four bottles of firewhiskey would normally have given her a conniption. However, after the terrible day and the perpetual feeling of uselessness that clung to her friends like a bad odor, Hermione decided everyone needed a place to relax.

Ginny was perched on Harry’s lap on the couch, while Neville and Luna snuggled on her armchair. Dean and Ron sat on the other side of the couch and tried to ignore the couples on either side of them. They occasionally shared a disgusted look and poured each other another shot. Hermione and Draco were sitting cross legged on the floor as close as they dared without causing a scene. Ginny and Dean still didn’t know about their relationship and Hermione decided it wasn’t the time to spill the beans. Every once and a while, Ginny looked at Draco intensely, as if waiting for him to jump up and cast the Dark Mark over the coffee table.

The third time Draco noticed her staring, he excused himself to get some ice from the kitchen. Hermione offered to help and padded after him.

“The Weaslette is creeping me out,” he said when they were out of sight.

“She’s just not sure what to make of you,” Hermione supplied and grabbed some ice cubes from the freezer.

“I suppose. It’s weird, though. I can feel her beady little Weasel eyes on me.”

Hermione playfully smacked his arm and moved to grab the extra napkins from the top shelf. Standing at 5’4 on a good day, she could barely reach the knob. Draco laughed at her pathetic attempt at lengthening her body then pressed himself up against her back and reached into the cabinet. He tossed the napkins on the counter, but didn’t back away.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

He moved her long hair to one side of her neck and placed a soft kiss below her ear.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured and continued to kiss down her neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and his hands snaked under the hem of her shirt to touch her bare skin.

“Draco,” she warned.

“I haven’t touched you in _ages,_ ” he whined softly and flicked his tongue against her earlobe.

“We nearly shagged up against the castle last night!”

“Like I said, it’s been absolutely ages _._ ”

Hermione laughed and turned to face him. His lips were on hers before she could mock him for acting spoiled.

Draco’s kisses always left her breathless, but the combination of the firewhiskey and the very real chance that Ginny could walk in at any moment caused hot desire to course through her body. He was coaxing and tempting her with the soft movements of his tongue against hers and his splayed hands rubbed circles on her skin. Before she was fully aware of his movement, Draco had placed her on the countertop and opened her knees with his hips. His hands traveled from her back down to the outside of her thighs, drifting up her skirt. Hermione buried her hands under his shirt to feel his lean muscles and the light dusting of hair that trailed into his pants. She sighed softly into his mouth when his fingers ghosted over the wet spot that had gathered in her knickers.

She was dragging her finger up and down the zipper of his pants when the fridge door opened and closed.

“Sorry,” Neville muttered, red-faced and slightly sweaty. Draco jumped away from Hermione and she slammed her knees shut. “I was just getting a drink- I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Ginny was heading in here to check on you, make sure you weren’t torturing Hermione and what not, so I volunteered myself instead. Didn’t think you’d be…” he trailed off.

“I’ll go placate Ginny,” Hermione sighed and hopped off the counter. When she rounded the corner, Neville turned to Draco.

“Hermione is like an annoying older sister who is better at you in _everything_ , but who would murder a mountain troll if it so much as slobbered on you.” He played with the buttons on his shirt and took a deep breath. “I like you, Malfoy, don’t get me wrong. But I like Hermione more and you should know that there are a fifty wizards who would gladly castrate you should you hurt her.”

Draco stood in stunned silence. He expected this little chat from Potter, or possibly Weasley, but not Longbottom. It seemed he underestimated Longbottom’s compassion and bravery, like so many people before him.

“Yes sir,” Draco replied and gave a mock salute. Neville seemed to turn a bit redder with that, so Draco softened. “I’m glad Hermione’s got people like you around, Longbottom.” He gave him a clap on the back and returned to the living room.

Neville took a large drink of his butterbeer and followed Draco.

_______

Two hours had passed and only Neville, Luna and Draco were still in Hermione’s flat. She and Draco had migrated to the couch and she was nestled comfortably in between his legs, with her back resting on his chest. He was twirling one of her curls around his finger while she laughed at something Luna said about wrackspurts or bibble-dee-bops, or some other ridiculous (and probably imaginary) creature.

“The radish crowns are for _nargles_ , Hermione, not for blibbering humdingers,” Luna corrected and Neville beamed at her.

“I think it’s about time we leave, Luna,” he said and she climbed off his lap.

“Oh yes, I’m so sorry Hermione! You must be exhausted. See you tomorrow?”

Hermione nodded and the couple showed their way out. She relaxed her head against Draco’s shoulder and listened to the steady sound of his breathing. After a few moments of quiet contentment, he started kissing down a familiar path along her neck.

“We’re alone,” he rumbled against her skin and she hummed in assent. “No Weasleys… No Longbottom… No Nargles….” He punctuated each word with a kiss to her shoulder. Hermione giggled and flipped herself around to straddle Draco.

“That’s true. Whatever will we do with ourselves?” she asked and ran her hands up his arms to loop around his neck. “We can research some more,” she suggested.

His eyebrows knitted in mock disgust and she leaned in to kiss his jawline. Hermione placed a series of chaste kisses across his jaw, then down the long length of his throat. When she got to the points of his collarbone, she used her tongue to outline the dips and rises of his bones. Draco rolled his head back onto the couch cushions as she began to slowly unbutton his shit, kissing every new inch of exposed flesh. By the time Hermione reached his navel, Draco’s skin was flushed and he was panting slightly.

She moved to unbutton his pants, but he wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her back to his face. Their lips met in a languid, exploratory kiss as they memorized the feel of each other’s lips. With the gentle rocking of Hermione’s hips, their kisses grew more heated and desperate. Draco pulled Hermione’s blouse off without undoing the buttons and she quickly dragged his pants down his legs. He leaned down to kiss the pillowy tops of her breasts before unclasping her bra and sliding it down her arms. He enveloped one of her pink nipples in his mouth and she gasped as darts of pleasure shot through her body and settled in her core.

Hermione could feel the ridges of Draco’s erection through their undergarments and she rolled her hips to rub against it. His moan vibrated through her breast where his lips were still firmly attached. He slid his hands down her torso and then lifted his hips to pull down his shorts. His cock rubbed deliciously against the wet spot on her silky knickers. After a few moments, Hermione took them off, ridding them of the last barrier between their bodies. She brought his mouth to hers once again and continued to rock against the underside of his cock, coating him in the slick arousal that dripped down onto his sac.

Draco grabbed her waist and lifted her up slightly to align their bodies. He plunged into her heat and his nails dug at the sensitive skin of her hips. When he was completely engulfed in her, Hermione dropped her forehead against his, unable to do anything but adjust to his cock buried deep within her.

“Hermione,” he gasped. “Move… please….”

She let out a raspy moan as he twitched inside of her. With his grip guiding her, she began to ride him with long and lazy glides of her hips. The angle was perfect, and with every down stroke, her clit rubbed exquisitely against his pubic bone. As Hermione became more frantic, she sped up until she was grinding forcefully against Draco. Their breathing was rough and needy as they sucked in as much air into their lungs as possible. Draco moved his hands from her hips to her arse, gripping her desperately and leaving behind finger-shaped bruises.

“Shit,” he breathed out slowly and looked down to watch his cock slide in and out of her tight cunt. His bollocks tightened at the sight and he felt his release coming.

 Hermione tightened her grip on his shoulders and shuddered as her walls began to tighten around Draco.

“Draco,” she whimpered. “I’m going to-“

“Me too,” he groaned, feeling her contracting muscles grip his cock fiercely.

 Hermione cried her release and her body pulsed and shattered against him. With one final thrust, he followed her and he murmured naughty endearments in a deep, gasping voice.

_______

The Headmistress set up a separate table in the Great Hall for the growing number of visitors as the professor’s table could only sit so many. Hermione sat in between Luna and Draco, facing Ginny while she drank her steaming cup of tea and twirled the pin in her hair. Harry, Ginny, Draco and Dean were discussing the chances of England’s Quidditch team reaching the world cup when the owl post arrived. A small, fire red envelope dropped in front of Draco and the entire table hushed.

“Oh fuck,” he grumbled and tapped it with his wand.

“ _DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY,”_ Pansy’s voice screeched through the large room. “ _THERE WAS A MAD WEREWOLF RUNNING THROUGH THE FORBIDDEN FOREST AND ALL YOU DID WAS TALK ABOUT HERMIONE’S STUPID HAIRPIN?! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU! YOU HAD **BETTER** FIND THIS WOMAN LEST I TAKE REVENGE FOR MY SISTER ON YOUR BOLLOCKS! I MIGHT AS WELL APOLOGIZE TO HERMIONE AHEAD OF TIME AND URGE HER TO FIND A NEW MAN, BECAUSE WHEN I AM THROUGH WITH YOU, THERE WON’T BE ANY ‘MAN’ LEFT!”_

The envelope shredded itself into a smoking pile of red confetti. After several minutes of awkward silence, Hermione turned to Draco.

“How did she-?” She was cut off by a strangled cry from Ginny, who practically had steam coming from her ears.

“Hermione!” she yelled. “What in Merlin’s left testicle was that?”

Before Hermione could answer, a silver terrier shot through the air and landed in the midst of the breakfast food on their table.

“Lavender’s in labor! Come to St. Mungo’s!”


	11. Chapter 11

It soon became clear that Ron had no real clue about the process of childbirth. After the group rushed to the hospital, they were greeted by Molly. She informed them that Lavender had _just_ gone into labor. Ginny went in to the labor room to say hello, while the others made themselves comfortable in the waiting room.

When Ginny came out from the room an hour later, she stood in the doorway and glared at Hermione, who was resting her head on Draco’s shoulder and reading a book. His head was leaned back against the wall and his eyes were closed.

Ginny began to twirl her wand in her hand with a calculating look. Harry recognized this look immediately as her patented “I am going to make you suffer” face.

“Hermione,” he whispered.

She looked up at him and he nodded his head toward the seething redhead. Hermione patted the seat next to her and placed her book on her lap. Ginny stormed over and plopped down rather violently.

“So you’re dating the Ferret?”

At this, Draco opened one eye and rolled his head to the side to watch the women.

“No,” Hermione responded and his eyes snapped open.

“No?” Ginny furrowed her brow at this.

“Not really, at least. I mean, we haven’t gone on a single date. We’ve been a little busy.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes again.

“Semantics, Hermione. You’re together. You’re with _Malfoy_ , the Death Eater Ferret. And you didn’t tell me!”

“Gin, we’ve had a lot on our plate! I’ve been tending to baby werewolves and researching dangerous magical creatures. Draco and I just kind of… happened. And for the love of Merlin, please stop calling him a ferret!”

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but Harry threw a ball of crumpled hospital pamphlet at him. The two witches were silently staring at each other until Ginny bit her bottom lip and asked, “Is he good to you?”

Hermione nodded and gave her friend a broad smile. Ginny sighed in acceptance and looked over at Draco.

“I’ll kill you if you ever make her cry, you know.”

“You and Neville,” Draco retorted.

“And me and Ron,” Harry piped up.

Ginny got up to sit by her husband, but her teeth stayed sunken in her lip until she nodded to herself and spoke again.

“Is he really a Slytherin Sex God?” she asked Hermione and ignored Harry’s pretend-vomiting.

Hermione turned as red as the signature Weasley hair.

“Ginny!” she scolded.

“I need details! Come on, Hermione. Satisfy my curiosity! I’ll tell you about Harry!”

“I don’t want to know about Harry!” Hermione cried.

“Just tell me this,” Ginny bargained. “Does he leave you satisfied?” She wagged her eyebrows at the word “satisfied.”

Hermione rubbed her temples while Draco’s eyes bounced between Ginny and Hermione like he was watching a tennis match.

“Yes, Gin. Now can we drop this?”

Draco puffed his chest out and smirked.

By noon, the waiting room was full of Weasleys. There was a tall Weasley with an earring, a buff Weasley with tattoos, and a Weasley Draco remembered from school for his pranks. He decided not to learn their names, instead referring to them by their physical characteristics. Hermione kept smacking him and repeating their names slowly, like she was speaking to a particularly stupid child. Mother Weasley had come up to Draco a little earlier and tried to give him a hug. It ended with Hermione balled over in laughter and tears running down Harry’s face. Draco realized the best course of action was to sit quietly and not draw attention to himself while he watched Hermione chatter away with Father Weasley about Muggle technology. The tattooed one settled into the seat next to him, and after a nodded greeting, they ignored each other. He was quickly becoming Draco’s favorite Weasley.

A solid hour passed of observing inter-Weasley communication when a little blonde girl got off Earring’s lap and headed straight for Draco.

“Hello,” she stuck her hand out for him to shake. It looked ridiculous swallowed up by his much larger hand.

“Hi,” he responded carefully.

“I’m Victoire. My dad says I should call you Uncle Draco.”

The color drained from Draco’s face as the prankster Weasley bellowed in laughter and collected a galleon from Earring.

“How about just Draco?” Hermione intervened. She glared and mouthed “hilarious” at the two across from her and patted Draco’s knee lovingly.

“Alright, Draco. So why are you here? You aren’t in my family.”

“Thank Merlin for that,” Draco mumbled and Hermione tightened her grip on Draco’s knee painfully.

“Draco is with me, Victoire,” she told the girl.

“Is he your husband?”

“No,” Hermione answered.

“Why not? Doesn’t he love you? He looks at you like he loves you.”

Hermione glanced at George, who shook his head and shrugged, not taking credit for this one.

“And how do you know what that looks like?” Hermione asked.

“You’re so silly Aunt Hermione. It’s the way Daddy looks at Mamá, and the way Grandpa Arthur looks at Grandma Molly, and Uncle Harry looks at Auntie Ginny. But they’re all married. If you’re in love, you have to get married. So Unc-, I mean Draco, why aren’t you married to Aunt Hermione?”

“It’s only been a month!” Draco exclaimed, feeling very unnerved by this young child. Victoire continued on, not seeing his panic.

“Grandma Molly says there are two types of love. There’s one that you know right away, and there’s one that sneaks up on you. She says the second one is the best, since that’s the one she has with Grandpa Arthur, but Auntie Ginny says the first one is better. What do you think?”

Luckily for Draco, Ron ran into the waiting room with his fists raised in the air.

“It’s a girl!” he yelled and the entire room erupted in cheers.

\---------------

That evening, Hermione laid in Draco’s bed, curled against his side. He was reading and she was lost in her thoughts, absentmindedly drawing little spirals on Draco’s bare chest.

“What would you have told Victoire?” she finally asked.

“Hmm?”

“About the two types of love. What would you have said?”

“Oh,” he said and rested his book on the bedside table next to Hermione’s hairpin. “I don’t really know, to be honest. It’s never really something I’ve thought about. I always assumed my parents would arrange a match with a pureblooded witch from a prominent family. There wasn’t room for love in that scenario. When I left, my mother gave up on finding me a perfect mate. My Father is in Azkaban so there’s no pressure on me to hurry up and marry anymore. What about you?”

Hermione met his gaze thoughtfully.

“As a little girl, I was taught about the first type of love- the kind where you meet a stranger’s eyes from across a room and you just know. But once I stopped believing in fairytales, I sort of chucked that idea away as nonsense.”

Draco nodded and wrapped his arm tightly around her back.

“I think most love is what Molly described,” Hermione continued. “It just pulls you in until one day you realize your life just isn’t as nice without the other person in it. You crave their presence and their mind as much as their touch. That’s when you just know you’re in it deep.”

Draco leaned down and placed a tender kiss on Hermione’s soft lips. She slowly drifted off to sleep and that night, she dreamt of a precocious little girl with curly blonde hair and honey brown eyes. 

\---------------

Heavy pounding roused Hermione from sleep. She shot up and looked around the room bleary-eyed to find the source of the noise. She half-fell, half-stumbled out of bed into the living room where she concluded the noise was coming from Draco’s front door. Slowly opening the door, Hermione peered out to find a very angry Pansy Parkinson.

Pansy pushed the door open and stomped into Draco’s bedroom. Hermione heard a slew of curses and bangs and she tried not to imagine the awful way Pansy had chosen to wake him up. The bedroom door banged open and Draco ran into the living room, clutching his low-slung pajama bottoms. A purple jet of light flew after him and he jumped over the couch to hide behind it. The spell hit a throw pillow which immediately sprouted wings and tried to fly away. Pansy walked out of the bedroom, wearing an expression of furious determination and sent an orange hex at the coffee table, which exploded into tiny pieces of wood that looked like matchsticks.

“Pansy!” Draco yelled. “Stop it! Damn it!” He lifted his hands in surrender and was immediately hit was an _Incarcerous_. Thick ropes shot from Pansy’s wand and bound Draco immobile. Pansy finally calmed down enough to say hello to Hermione.

“Sorry about this,” she waved at Draco, who was struggling to get out of the ropes and screaming obscenities. She shot a _Silencio_ at him. “I find that men listen better when they’re unable to talk back. Do you have any tea?”

Hermione nodded in shock and moved to the kitchen to put the kettle on. When she regained the ability to form thoughts, she called out to Pansy.

“You know this isn’t his fault, Pansy. We’ve been working for a month trying to figure out what’s going on. Would you like milk in your tea?”

“Yes, please. And I _know_ that. I know it’s not his fault or your fault except the batty she-wolf who lives in the Forbidden Forest. But sometimes you need to throw a hex or two or you’ll drown in your own misery. Surely you know what that’s like, Hermione. Not even you are perfect.”

Hermione recalled the little birds she set on Ron during her sixth year and found herself agreeing with Pansy.

“How long are you going to leave him like that?” she asked.

Pansy waved off her question and took the teacup from Hermione’s hands. She sat daintily on the couch and sipped her tea. Hermione looked between Pansy and Draco, unsure of what to do. His eyes were glowing silver in rage, but Pansy’s casual manner unsettled Hermione.  She decided she could handle Draco’s wrath; she was certainly familiar with it- and if worst came to worst, she would just jump him and snog him silly. Pansy was a loose cannon with a fierce temper- best to let her win this round. With that decision made, Hermione joined Pansy on the couch.

“Tell me about Bryony,” Pansy said.

“Well, she was found by her boyfriend-“

“Boyfriend?” Pansy looked surprised. “Mum made her break up with her last boyfriend. He was some towheaded Ravenclaw Muggleborn.” Hermione cocked an eyebrow at that. “Not that I care about that rubbish anymore, mind you, but you know the older generations. They’re hard to reform.”

Hermione tried not to let her mind wander too far into her and Draco’s potential future and the inevitability of meeting Narcissa, should she and Draco continue down that path.

“So she was found by a boyfriend,” Pansy prompted.

“Yes, and she’s been in a coma ever since. I have a working theory that the bite implores the new werewolves to obey the one who infected them. Of course, this is completely untested, since this is the only time we’ve seen such behavior, but it’s a possibility. I think the magic is getting stronger, too. Rebecca didn’t have that connection to her Alpha, if you will, immediately like Bryony did.”

Draco made a strangled groan and Pansy rolled her eyes and flicked her wand at him. The ropes around his arms and legs unraveled, but he was still silenced. He stretched out and hobbled back to his bedroom before shooting the witches an ominous glare.

Hermione stood up and moved toward the door.

“I should go check on him,” she said and Pansy nodded.

“I’m staying at the Three Broomsticks. Send me a message the second you learn something new. I know I was a right bitch to you in school, but Bryony is a sweet girl. Please help her,” Pansy begged.

“Of course. She could be Voldemort’s little sister and I would still do my damndest to save her.”

“For once I’m grateful for that ridiculous Gryffindor nobility,” Pansy commented and with one more wave of her wand toward the bedroom to remove the silencing charm from Draco, she showed herself out.

Hermione found Draco soaking in a hot bath a few moments later. She stood nervously at the threshold, looking down at her feet.

“Come in or get out, Granger,” he barked. “No one likes a hoverer.”

She summoned every ounce of Gryffindor courage she had and stepped in. Draco looked up at her and opened his mouth to yell at her, but she whipped off her shirt and took another step forward- and Draco forgot why he was supposed to be angry. With another step, she was peeling off her shorts and knickers. By the time she was completely nude, she was standing directly above Draco.

“Can I join you?” she asked and bit her lip in preparation for a verbal lashing that never came. Instead, Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her in the large tub. She fell gracelessly on top of him.

“Draco!” she sputtered and wiped the hair out of her face. He hauled her body to him and perched her on his lap. Hermione splashed him and laughed as his pale hair flattened down on his head. He mock-growled and flipped their positions so he was hovering above her. Draco pinned her hands on either side of her head, flat against the wall of the tub. Hermione’s laughter died in her throat when she saw the look in Draco’s grey eyes. They were swirling molten silver, intense and sensual. Her breath hitched and he lowered his head so his lips were just a hair from hers.

“I should be angry,” he murmured. “You left me tied up on the floor.”

Hermione gulped.

“I’m sorry, but Pansy is not a witch I want on my bad side.”

He narrowed his eyes and she closed the space between them to kiss him gently. Draco immediately intensified the kiss with his wandering hands and domineering tongue. Then just as quickly as it started, he pulled away and climbed out of the tub, leaving a dull ache in Hermione’s core. She allowed her eyes to wander down his taut back and firm arse before following him.

They dried off and dressed in time to visit Bryony before their first classes started. When they entered the hospital wing, they were greeted with a peculiar sight. Rebecca was curled around Bryony, her arms looped loosely around the older girl’s body. Hermione walked closer and saw that Rebecca was sleeping. She nudged the young girl’s shoulder to wake her.

“Rebecca,” she whispered. Rebecca stirred and turned to face Hermione.

“Professor Granger,” she said in a sleepy voice.

“Why are you here?” Draco asked from his place behind Hermione.

“I missed her.”

“Did you even know Bryony, Rebecca?” Hermione questioned.

“Not really, but now, it’s like I feel her in my heart. I couldn’t sleep knowing she was down here, all alone. Do you have any sisters, Professor Granger?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I didn’t. Now I do,” Rebecca told her and moved to collect her things.

When she left the infirmary, Hermione stuck her head in the office to find Padma sitting at the desk taking notes.

“I assume you heard that?” Hermione asked.

“Unusual, isn’t it? We’ve never seen that with other werewolves.”

Draco stepped behind Hermione and placed his hands on her hips.

“Padma, is it possible for this pseudo-Imperius to also include some kind of bonding aspect? It could explain the girls’ desires to please and obey their maker, as well as Rebecca’s need to be near Bryony.”

“That’s a good thought, Professor Malfoy,” Padma responded. “It’s becoming pretty clear to me that we need to find this woman.”

Hermione sighed and Draco smoothed her curls away to press a sweet kiss against her temple. Padma smiled and cocked her head at Hermione, but didn’t comment. In that moment, Hermione felt her affection for the Patil sister double.

\---------------

Hermione had a study hall period for the last class of the day. Seventh year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws sat silently studying and finishing up homework while she sat at her desk reading a book on the Unforiveables and their uses throughout wizarding history. As she started a chapter on the Imperius, a slight shiver went down her spine. Unfazed, she continued reading. A moment later, Hermione felt a gentle wave of arousal wash over her. Confused and red-faced, she looked up. Nothing was out of the ordinary, so she went back to her book. Her arousal grew as she read, until her skin was hot and a small pool of moisture collected in her knickers.

Hermione closed her book and searched around the room once more. Aside from a few boys tossing paper balls at each other, her students were studious and focused. She blinked several times to clear her mind, but when she closed her eyes, she saw Draco in her mind’s eye. Suddenly remembering she was wearing her hairpin, she chuckled quietly to herself. So he was in the mood to play, she thought and let her eyes fall shut again.

Images of her laying back on the edge of a bed, her legs spread wide danced into her consciousness. Draco appeared before her, sitting on his knees on the floor, with one leg tossed over his shoulder. His mouth was making its way up her inner thigh, with kisses, licks and small nips.

Hermione opened her eyes again to make sure all was well. It was, so she rested her head on her arms on the desk and let Draco have his way with her imagination.

His warm mouth reached her center, but instead of going where she wanted him to, he switched over to her other thigh. He placed tantalizing kisses on her sensitive skin and she squirmed under his touch. His fingernails raked down her sides and dug in slightly at her hip bones. By the time he reached her center again, she was dripping onto the bed beneath her. He blew gently against her slit and a shiver of anticipation shot through her body. Draco kissed her swollen lips then snaked his tongue out to give a quick lick at her clit. She moaned and arched her back off the bed, running her fingers through his hair. He opened her up with his mouth and gave her clit another lick, this time long and slow. He circled it with his tongue pointed, then gave a sweeping lick across the middle. When he slid a long digit into her, Hermione cried out and tightened her grip on his head. After a few pumps, he added a second finger, then a third. With a slight arch in his hand, his fingers brushed against a sensitive spot in her and she clenched down on him.

“Oh my God, Draco,” she panted and he sucked gently at her engorged nub.

“Faster, please,” she begged and he obliged. His fingers worked inside of her, rubbing her in exactly the right spot, while his delicious mouth teased her clit. Hermione began to shake as her muscles tensed, her climax looming over her. Draco continued to work her body and Hermione gasped and her eyes dropped closed when he hummed at her clit, sending vibrations through her. He bit down gently on her and with one final thrust of his hand, she came apart above him, moaning and panting while stars burst beneath her eyelids.

She opened her eyes to find everything in order so Hermione dismissed her students for the day. She collected her things when her classroom door opened. She turned to see Draco leaning against the doorframe, with the signature Malfoy smirk.

“Good class?” he asked innocently.

“Great,” she corrected and walked toward him. Hermione placed her hand gently on his chest and kissed her cheek.

“Consider it a preview,” he said into her ear and they walked to dinner smiling, hand in hand.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

It was the night of the full moon and a team of professors, Aurors and Healers gathered in a meeting. Harry stood at the front of the room, with Padma to his right.

“We only have one task tonight,” Harry boomed. He stood tall and his presence calmed Hermione’s racing heartbeat. “There is a wolf out there who is making a pack. She can transform into a woman and Merlin knows what else. We know she can manipulate time and your perception. Her magic is unbridled and we don’t know if she even needs a wand to perform. Don’t give her a reason to harm you- we need her alive and willing to talk to us. If you need help, shoot up a _Periculum_. It will send red sparks into the sky and one of the Aurors will come get you. There will be twenty of us on brooms, monitoring the situation from above. Thirty Aurors, fifteen professors and ten Healers will be on the ground. Miss Patil will stay with me; if you need her, send me your Patronus. Is that understood?”

The room murmured in assent and Harry dismissed them. Hermione opted for Muggle clothing that night, in case she needed a quick getaway. Her jeans were tucked into hiking boots and her black leather jacket fit snugly against her. She pulled at her sleeves and searched the crowd for a familiar, blonde head.

“Looking for someone?” he drawled from behind her.

“Yes, actually. Tall, blond, sarcastic, likes to sneak up behind people?” Hermione answered and turned around. “Ready for tonight?”

Draco shrugged and tightened the wand holster on his forearm.

“I can’t say I’m fond of wandering into the Forbidden Forest after nightfall. I don’t have the Gryffindor-running-into-a-burning-building urge that you idiots do,” he said with a playful smirk.

They walked out to the tree line and with one last look back at the castle, they trudged into to darkness. The forest was damp and chilly, and Hermione was infinitely grateful for her warm leather jacket. The dead branches crunched underneath her boots as she hiked deeper into the woods, carefully avoiding boulders and what she was pretty sure was _Mimbulus mimbletonia_. Eventually she and Draco reached the ravine where they first encountered the she-wolf and they continued walking in careful silence.

After several more minutes, they came upon the shack that Harry showed them earlier that month. Hermione walked up to the window, despite Draco grabbing at her arm to stop her. She blew gently on the dirty windows and wiped a spot clear with the sleeve of her jacket. She peered inside and found it exactly the same as before, with a few blankets strewn about and a fire pit in the center of the room.

“Hermione,” Draco whispered, with a slight strain in his voice. “Don’t be a bloody fool. You’re just asking for trou-”

Before he could finish his sentence, a deep and ferocious growl sounded from inside the shack. Hermione took a quick step back, tripping on a branch and falling backwards on her rear. As Draco took a step forward to help her up, a large black figure leaped through the window, shattering the glass around Hermione. Standing in between the two was a large, black wolf with glowing amber eyes. It bared its teeth at Draco who tried to take another step towards Hermione. She had swung herself around to face him and was attempting to stand up without cutting herself on the glass shards surrounding her. The moment Draco raised his wand to blast the wolf, the air around them shifted and swirled. Wind and leaves whipped around the wolf, hiding it from their sight. When it stopped, a woman stood between them.

She was odd looking, with long black hair and the same amber eyes. Her skin was white and unblemished, and she had a long, pointed nose and pale, bloodless lips. She had a black tunic wrapped around her body and no shoes on her feet. The woman turned and gave Hermione a smile that chilled her to the bone.

“Hermione Granger,” she said in a strange, disembodied voice. “The forest speaks fondly of you.”

Hermione blinked in response and the woman walked towards her. Draco tried to step in between them, but with a small wave of her hand, the woman pushed him back. He tried to walk forward again, but was stopped like there was an invisible wall between him and the women.

“We just want to talk to you,” Hermione said, slowly standing to her full height.

“Maybe you do,” the woman responded. “But this one has other things on his mind.” She waved again at Draco and he doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach. Hermione felt his anger and momentarily cursed the pin she wore tucked in her braid. She took a calming breath and began.

“Do you have a name?”

“The centaurs call me Fera,” the pale woman responded with a slight narrowing of her eyes.

“Fera, we’re professors at the school outside of the forest and we’re having a bit of a problem. Could you help us?” Hermione said in her most diplomatic voice. Draco tried to move again, but Fera shot a threatening look over her shoulder. He groaned and fell to his knees and Draco’s pain started to pulse in Hermione’s body. She fought the urge to cry out and continued her speech. She opted for innocence, remembering the old Muggle adage about flies and honey.

“There are two girls in the school who have bitten by a werewolf. One of them, a sixteen year old named Bryony, is experiencing disturbing side effects, and we want to help her. Her family is worried for her, as you can imagine and we thought one of the inhabitants of the forest could help.”

“Side effects?”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded. “But it is my colleague, Professor Malfoy, who knows about them. Perhaps if you released your spell from him, he would explain everything to you.”

Draco was on his hands and knees on the forest floor, with sweat beaded across his forehead and his breath gasped and pained. With one final appraising look towards Hermione, Fera waved her hand at him. Relief thrummed in Hermione, but she wasn’t sure if it was Draco’s or her own.

“Speak,” Fera commanded. After a few more heavy breaths, he obeyed.

“Bryony has been afflicted with some kind of compulsion spell. She feels the need to return to the forest.”

“Why don’t you let her, then?” Fera asked.

“Because she’s just a girl,” Hermione said. “She has a life, a family and friends who love her. She’s a witch, and she belongs in the wizarding world.”

At this, Fera looked fiercely at Hermione and her hair began to crackle with static.

“A world consumed by war and death? Where people and creatures are deemed less important by the ever-changing whims of the powers-that-be? To me, it sounds as though Bryony and Rebecca were given a gift. They were given power, and love, and a place to thrive- not that wizarding school where children are tortured and murdered.”

“We didn’t mention Rebecca,” Draco rasped. “Let’s cut the bullshit. We know you’re the one biting the students and you need to stop. Release them from the spells and we can all go on our merry way.”

Hermione cringed as Fera flung Draco into the air. He hit a tree with a sickening _thunk_ and slid down, unconscious. Sharp pain shot up Hermione’s back and she closed her eyes to focus her mind at the task at hand.

“Fera, the war is over. Our world isn’t like that anymore,” she implored. “I know you think you’re saving them, but the girls need to be in our world. Please, let them go.”

Before Fera could respond, a silver eagle burst from Draco’s wand and flew up into the sky. Fera swung herself around, shoved her hand forward and reeled it back as the air from Draco’s lungs was forced out. Black spots danced in Hermione’s vision as she fell down, gasping and choking as her own lungs struggled to gain air. Moments before her consciousness left her, she saw Draco crawl a few feet towards her, then slump onto the ground in a heap.

\---------------

Soft, soothing music tinkled in her ears as bright sunlight shined through her eyelids. The air was warm and comforting, and the smell of tea and biscuits floated into her nose. Hermione’s eyes fluttered open to see a pair of bright emerald eyes staring back at her.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Harry said with a smile. She heard faint grumbling and swearing from her right and immediately turned to see Draco struggling with his sheets, trying to get out of bed. He fell with a thud on the hard, wood floor and Hermione tried to stifle her laughter.

“He’s been awake for a few hours now,” Harry supplied with a long sigh. “Right pain in the arse, he is. Kept bugging Ginny and me to give you an Invigoration Draught. Neville finally came in and told him that your body needed rest and that his nagging wasn’t going to wake you any sooner. It settled him down a bit, but then you started to move around in your sleep and he kept trying to leap out of bed to get to you. Bloody git.”

“Shut up, Potter,” Draco growled and sat on the edge of Hermione’s bed.

“Your Patronus isn’t a ferret,” she said then laid back to snuggle into the warm bed. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“No… it’s a Crowned Eagle. Regal, powerful, intelligent,” he began when Harry cut in.

“Aggressive, obnoxiously loud…”

Hermione shushed Harry with a look and turned back to Draco.

“How’s your back?”

“Fine, thanks to the Weaslette. I had a few broken vertebrae, but she fixed me right up. I have to admit, she’s pretty useful.”

She rolled her eyes and noticed the glittering hairpin on the table near her bed.

“I felt your pain, you know,” she said off-handedly, but both Draco and Harry’s eyes bored into her. “When Fera cursed you, I felt it. Not just your emotions, but the physical pain as well.”

“That explains the sleep,” Harry muttered. “Padma will want to hear about that.”

Hermione nodded and reached to the cup of tea Harry has holding.

After a long, deep drink, she asked, “Did you catch her?”

Harry shook his head. “She was gone when I got to you.”

“She thinks she’s saving them.”

“Malfoy told us. I have an idea, but perhaps you should rest before I fill you in.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Harry, you tell me your plan right now.”

“Told you,” Draco said and hopped off the bed. “I’m going back to safety.” He walked back to his bed.

“We’re going to set a trap.”

“With an Auror?” she asked.

Harry’s long silence and Draco’s too-innocent whistling caused Hermione’s mind to whirl.

“Harry James Potter, tell me you’re going to use an Auror.”

“Look, Hermione. We had a volunteer. It’s not like we’re going to force anyone to do this. And he’s of age, so legally, this is okay.”

“Legally! What about morally? A student isn’t bait, Harry!” She looked over at Draco. “Did you tell him this was a terrible idea?”

“I told him you would hate it,” he replied slowly. “But I think he’s right.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped.

“And what does the Headmistress say?”

“She agrees with us. Hermione, it’s the only way. Fera will be cautious and suspicious. An Auror is too obvious,” Harry tried to convince his stubborn friend.

Hermione shook her head and rolled onto her side, facing away from the two men in her life who were going to drive her to an early grave. Harry sighed and left her to stew, but as soon as he left the room, Draco moved back to her bed. He stretched out against her backside and breathed in her scent. Draco kissed her neck and Hermione harrumphed.

“How long are you going to be cross with me?”

“Forever.”

“I admire your commitment,” he laughed and kissed her again and again, moving from the nape of her neck to the hollow spot behind her ear. When he gave her a little nip, she turned around to face him.

“I can’t believe you agree with Harry,” she lamented.

“I know. The world is coming to an end.” He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose. Draco moved down to hover above her lips and ran his hand down her face, moving to gently hold her by the chin. He pulled her in and gave her a soft, pillowy kiss.

“I’m still mad at you,” Hermione whispered when Draco released her lips.

“I know,” he said and leaned in again. He pulled her body firmly against his by her hips and reached down to grab at her bum. Hermione giggled into his mouth and wrapped her leg around him, so their pelvises touched. She pushed her hands up against his stomach and chest to loop around his neck, then flipped them over so she was on top of his long body. Draco’s hands burned at her skin underneath her hospital gown as he rubbed her thighs and she pulled him up to take off his cotton shirt. A voice broke them out of their lust-induced haze.

“Not that I’m not curious to see if you’ll actually shag in the hospital wing, but I really need to check Hermione,” Ginny said with a slight laugh in her voice. Hermione sat up, still straddling Draco and smiled at her friend. “Plus, Malfoy really should be resting his back.”

“I’m fine, Gin. I swear. Can you wait like fifteen minutes?”

“Fifteen?” Ginny asked with an unimpressed look at Draco.

“Maybe thirty,” he amended.

She was about to leave them be when Padma bustled into the room with a large stack of books hovering behind her.

“Tough luck, Malfoy,” Ginny teased and walked over to the couple. Padma looked up and blushed.

“Harry sent me!” she exclaimed and looked down at the ground.

With a slight groan from Draco, Hermione rolled off him and sat up against the pillows.

“It’s fine, Padma. What do you need?”

“Harry said you were uneasy about the trap, but I wanted to tell you about some of the protection spells I’ve been working on. He won’t get hurt, I promise you,” she said.

“Who is it?” Hermione asked.

“Bryony’s boyfriend, the Muggleborn kid she isn’t actually allowed to date,” Draco answered with a slight shrug. “Maybe he’s hoping to win over the Parkinson matriarch.”

“That’s a terrible reason to do this, Draco!” she cried and got off the bed. He sighed and rested his head, with one arm flung over his eyes.

“Hermione,” Padma said in a slow, soothing voice. “They’ve already decided. I could really use your help with this last step, but I understand if you’d rather not…”

Draco gave a slight smirk at Padma’s cunning. Appealing to both Hermione’s need to be involved and also her scholastic spirit was brilliant.

“Fine,” Hermione sighed and plopped herself down cross-legged on the foot of the bed. “What can I do to help you?”

“I actually want to use that hairpin,” Padma said with a point of her finger towards to runic accessory. “I think I can copy the protection runes onto John’s skin and give my spells an extra boost. Would you mind?”

Hermione shrugged and _Accio_ ed the pin over to Padma.

“Just keep it safe,” she said. “I’ve grown rather fond of it.”

\---------------

A few hours later, Draco and Hermione were in a similar position, but in Hermione’s bed instead of the hospital bed. Draco’s hands grasped her hips firmly as their tongues tangled in a deep kiss. Hermione began to slither down his body, kissing down his firm chest. She veered to the right and kissed his nipple, gently pulling at it with her teeth. He shuddered under her and she repeated her action on the other side. Hermione headed downward again, placing wet, warm kissed down his stomach. When she reached his belly button, she dipped her tongue in it, while her hands quickly undid his pants.

Draco let out a soft hiss when the cool air hit his cock. He did it again when Hermione trailed her warm tongue up his shaft and flicked gently at the slit where a small bead of pre-cum gathered. She engulfed the head of his cock in her mouth and sucked gently, while her small hand wrapped around him and began to pump. Her other hand softly rolled his sac and he dropped his head back and groaned. Hermione’s mouth followed her hand as she sunk down Draco’s cock, and when she reached as far down as she could, she hollowed her cheeks and looked up at him. He made another strangled groan and his eyes swirled darkly with lust.

“Hermione,” he growled in a raspy voice, trying to stop her before he reached the point of no return. Instead of slowing down, she hummed and sent vibrations through his cock. He tangled his hands in her thick hair and she sped her pace.

Draco watched as her red, swollen lips pumped up and down, saliva gathered at the corners of her mouth. She dragged her fingernails down his taut abdominal muscles and then softly down the insides of his thighs. His breath was coming out ragged, as his heady lust thrummed through his body. When she lowered herself down again, she swallowed, causing her soft throat to constrict on the swollen tip of his cock. After a few more pumps, he was slowly unraveling, his hand gripped tightly in her hair and his hips thrusting into her mouth.

“I’m close,” he grunted out.

Hermione flattened her tongue against the underside of his shaft and sucked a little harder. He cried out and his warm seed shot in bursts into her mouth. She swallowed once more, and gave one final suck as she lifted her mouth off his flushed cock. Hermione kissed back up his stomach and he pulled her in for a long, sensual kiss. When they broke away, his eyes were heavy-lidded with exhaustion. Draco tried to move down her body to return the favor, but she dragged him back up.

“Ginny said to rest your back.”

“But-”

Hermione silenced him with another kiss, and then curled into his body for a long, dreamless night’s sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Hermione and Harry were enjoying a leisurely breakfast when the owl post arrived. A handsome tawny eagle dropped a letter onto Hermione’s head and it fell down onto the table.

“Bollocks,” she muttered when she looked at the seal: a deep green M surrounded by delicate, silver vines. She slid her finger under the flap of the envelope and unfolded the parchment tucked inside. She read it aloud to Harry, who was watching her curiously.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_I would like to cordially invite you for high tea at the Malfoy Manor on this Saturday at three in the afternoon. Please respond at your earliest convenience._

_Narcissa Malfoy_

“High tea?” she echoed and scrunched up her nose. “What on earth does one wear to high tea?”

Harry chuckled and tossed a piece of toast at her.

“I don’t know, but you better eat. If you’re going to battle with Mrs. Malfoy, you’ll need all the strength you can get.”

Ginny has just sat down at the table and raised her eyebrows at Hermione.

“You’re going to battle?” she asked. Hermione groaned and dropped her head on the table. Ginny reached over the table to read the letter. Her eyes flew over the word at an impressive speed.

“You’ve officially been summoned, my darling,” Ginny told her friend in a posh accent and took a large bite of muffin.

“What do I wear?” Hermione cried again, her voice muffled by the table.

“Something pastel?” Ginny offered and shrugged. “Pearls, I assume? Perhaps a nice, floppy hat?”

With a dramatic bang of her head against the table, Hermione cursed Draco Malfoy.

“What’s wrong with her?” Draco asked as he sat down next to Hermione.

“Your mother,” she muffled.

Draco looked at Ginny with a raised eyebrow and she handed him the parchment.

“Oh,” he said and refolded it carefully. “I was wondering how long this was going to take.”

Hermione picked up her head and glared at him. Draco shrugged.

“It’s normal in certain circles. It just means my mother wants to meet you formally.”

“But she has met me! I distinctly remember her crazy sister torturing me in her drawing room!”

Draco winced but continued.

“She wants to meet you as my girlfriend. I promise her intentions are pure,” Draco reassured Hermione with a soft pat on the back.

\------------------------

Hermione pulled at her dress as she stood before the large, black doors. With a quick adjustment of the pearls around her neck and the errant curl by her ear, she knocked on the door three times. The door swung open and on the other side of the threshold stood Narcissa Malfoy. Her long blonde hair was braided neatly and she was wearing a beautifully tailored wool dress in deep emerald.

“Miss Granger, I presume?” she asked and held the door open for Hermione.

“Yes, it’s lovely to see you, Mrs. Malfoy,” Hermione responded, willing the slight pitch in her voice to go away.

“Hermione!” another voice called from behind Narcissa. Hermione stepped inside and saw Pansy smiling brightly. “Your dress is beautiful!”

Hermione ran her hands over the purple fabric nervously and thanked Pansy. The women walked into the front room and sat around an ornate table.

“So Miss Granger,” Narcissa began. “How long have you been seeing my son?”

Hermione paled slightly and mentally shook away the butterflies that had taken up residence in her gut.

“Nearly two months. And please, call me Hermione.”

Narcissa nodded as a house-elf appeared to serve the tea. They drank their tea in silence and Hermione wished she was anywhere but Malfoy Manor.

“Well, this is awkward,” Pansy commented. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? Hermione is a Muggleborn Gryffindor dating a Malfoy. True, this type of match is practically unheard of, but aren’t we mature enough to move past that? I’m sure there are plenty of things we all have in common. Narcissa, are you aware of the work Hermione is doing for my sister?”

After a brief, but glowing report from Pansy, the atmosphere in the room seemed lighter. The witches discussed the upcoming holiday season, the new fall collection from Gladrags, and finally, Hermione’s work as a professor.

“I must say, Hermione, it seems like your intelligence knows no bounds,” Narcissa commented after Hermione detailed her own personal research in ancient transfiguration spells. “Not many women find time for a fulfilling professional career and a love life.”

 “It’s easy with Draco,” Hermione remarked with a faint blush. “We both work diligently, so there’s no competition for each other’s time. My work will always be important to me and Draco understands because he feels the same way.”

“And what about children, my dear?” Narcissa probed.

“Excuse me?” Hermione choked on her tea.

“When you have children, will you continue to work?”

Pansy snickered beneath her croissant and Hermione shot her a quick glare.

“Yes, I think so,” she answered.

“But children are quite a demand, Hermione. Surely you know that. And you certainly cannot expect the man to put his career on hold; that’s the woman’s duty.”

Hermione took a deep breath and counted to ten before responding.

“I believe that whoever I end up with will understand and appreciate my love for my work. Ideally, my husband would be my partner in all things- including raising children.”

“And you think Draco is that partner?” Narcissa asked, not-too-innocently.

“We haven’t really discussed it, to be quite honest, Mrs. Malfoy,” Hermione replied, trying to conceal the anxiety in her voice.

“Hmm,” Narcissa hummed and cleared away the tea tray with a snap of her fingers.

\------------------------

Draco was lounging on the couch with a book when a disheveled Hermione burst through his door.

“If we have kids, will you expect me to stay at home?” she demanded as her hair flew in every which way. She paced in front of him, occasionally muttering under her breath.

“Whoa,” he said and held up his hands in surrender. “What happened?”

“Your mother happened!” Hermione yelled and kicked her pumps off her feet.

“Was she rude?” Draco asked, thoroughly confused.

“No! She was perfectly polite!”

“I’m sorry Hermione, but you’ve lost me.”

“I want a life partner, Draco. I don’t want someone who will have ridiculous, old-fashioned notions of ‘a woman’s duty’ and I certainly don’t want my husband to run away to the office all day leaving me with a handful of babies to raise!”

Draco stood up and held Hermione’s arms gently.

“I hear you,” he said. “I don’t want that either. If I wanted that kind of wife, I would’ve been married eight years ago.”

She dropped her head against his chest and gave a little sniffle.

“Your mother is terrifying,” she said into his shirt.

“This is the woman who lived with the Dark Lord invading her home for over a year and then lied to his face about Potter. She is _absolutely_ terrifying,” Draco snorted. “But she loves me, and once she sees that you’re important to me, she’ll be fine with everything.”

“I’m important to you?” she asked, unable to move her head from the spot on his chest. Draco gave a little sigh.

“I guess. When you were lying there in the infirmary, all I could do was think about how dull life would be without you,” he commented and forced her to meet his eyes. Her deep brown eyes were glassy with unshed tears and a pretty pink flush warmed her cheeks.

“I _guess_ you’re important to me too,” she said with a small smile.

Draco pulled her close for a hug. He kissed the top of her curly head and enjoyed the warmth that spread through his heart.

A quick knock at the door pulled them from their embrace and Draco moved to answer it. Outside the door stood Neville with a case of butterbeer and a sheepish smile.

“Hey Neville,” Hermione greeted and he took a seat on the chair. Draco flopped back onto the couch and Hermione moved to the kitchen to open three butterbeers. When she returned, Neville was picking nervously at nonexistent lint and Draco was watching keenly with an amused smile.

“I’mgoingtoaskLunatomarryme,” he blurted out and his face stained red. Draco looked at Hermione who shrugged.

“Again, Neville? With spaces?”

“I’m going to ask Luna to marry me.”

Draco blanched.

“Haven’t you only been dating for a few months?”

“Five, actually,” Neville corrected. “But we’ve been friends since fifth year.”

Hermione beamed at him.

“That sounds wonderful, Neville. I’m so happy for you!” She stood to give Neville a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“So why are you here, Longbottom?” Draco asked with a slight tilt of his head.

“I actually came for Hermione,” he said and pulled a small velvet box from his jacket pocket. “I want your approval on the ring. I don’t know much about jewelry and you’re the only one I trust not to tell her.”

He flipped upon the top and nestled in white satin was the most oddly spectacular ring Hermione had ever seen. The band was deep gold that appeared to shimmer with bronze sparkles. There were three small stones across the top; the largest, middle one was an oval amethyst and the two smaller, tear-shaped gems were pale pink. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand and gasped quietly.

“Neville, it’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect!”

“No diamonds?” Draco asked.

“Luna isn’t exactly traditional, Draco,” Hermione chided gently. With a nod and a shrug, Draco gave his approval.

“So when are you going to do it, mate?”

“This weekend. I’m going to take her up to the Astronomy Tower during the new moon. The new moon signifies a time for beginnings, and I think Luna will really like that,” Neville explained with a small puff of his chest.

“You’re right, Neville. I’m so happy for you,” Hermione murmured and cleared the proud tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.

The three friends drank their butterbeer in ease, with the boys only occasionally teasing of Hermione for being so emotional.

“I’m just so proud!” she defended. “I never would have expected this from little first-year Neville!”

“What about you, Hermione?” Neville teased. “Happily dating your arch nemesis? Happily dating anyone, really. Had you gone on a single date after Ron?”

Draco perked up. He and Hermione hadn’t talked about their past love lives at all, and he was suddenly very curious to learn more.

“Oliver Wood for a few months,” Hermione supplied with a small shrug and Draco’s lip curled slightly. “And I went on a few dates with Dean.”

“Dean Thomas?” Draco asked, trying to keep his composure. “Am I the first non-Gryffindor you’ve dated?”

After thinking for a moment, Hermione nodded.

“I like Gryffindors. We value the same things: bravery, nobility, chivalry.”

Draco grunted in response and vowed to be a little braver in his day-to-day life- but just a _little_.

\------------------

As the new moon approached, the Aurors were scrambling around the castle making sure they had all their bases covered for their trap for Fera. John, the Ravenclaw, was a nervous wreck and had gone in to quit on Harry several times that week. Each time, he left Harry’s makeshift office after a little pep talk, ready to take on the world. By the time night fell, he was shaking slightly and Hermione was whispering comforting words in his ear, occasionally shooting glares in Harry’s direction.

Padma had traced protection runes around his torso and wand arm. She gave Hermione back the hairpin when they met out near the Black Lake to watch over John from afar. He set off to wander along the edge of the forest, never once looking back at them. Hermione was quite proud of his courage, for Ravenclaws were not considered the bravest students at Hogwarts. She and Padma waited patiently, sparing glances to the Aurors’ many hiding places. Harry did well; Hermione could barely make out their dark cloaks in the night.

Soon enough, Fera emerged from the woods and made her way over to John. She spoke with him for a few moments, and he shook his head and turned to walk away. When his back was turned, Fera transformed into her wolf form and Hermione went on alert. The large black wolf stalked John as he meandered through the trees, heading deeper into the forest.

“I can’t see him,” Hermione breathed to Padma, who shook her head in response. “Where are the Aurors? Why aren’t they following him?”

Her panic rose from deep within her chest and she spotted Draco walking casually by Hagrid’s hut. His hands were tucked into his pockets and he seemed to be moving aimlessly. Once he caught Hermione’s eye, she saw the manic look in his face and breathed a sigh of relief. Draco was going after John.

He was gone for several minutes before Hermione felt a twinge of fear grab her heart. Draco’s anxiety flowed through her and she searched the tree line intently. With no sign of him, she moved forward to get a closer look. Padma called after her, but Hermione was consumed by Draco’s emotions and her own worry. She was within feet of the dark forest when Fera stepped forward. Hermione heard Harry swear loudly when they saw her: Fera had a hand grasped firmly around Draco’s throat, with his wand in her other hand.

“When will he learn?” she called out to Hermione, who started to run at Draco.

“No!” he and Harry both screamed out, but she didn’t listen. Fera’s hand tightened on Draco’s windpipe and Hermione immediately stopped running. Fear, anxiety and pain gripped at her heart and she wanted to cry out from the exhaustion of it all. Cold sweat gathered at her brow and her skin felt clammy. Hermione wiped away the bead of sweat that dripped down her cheek and gripped her wand fiercely, ready for battle.

“Oh Hermione,” Fera grieved. “Who will you choose?”

Confused, Hermione looked behind Fera and saw John, bloody and bruised, in a sickening sprawl on the ground. Her breath caught in her throat and she looked wildly from Draco to John. Hermione felt Draco’s urging to save John ram into her mind, but she couldn’t move. She was frozen in panic, her stomach churning and long, wet tears trailing down her cheeks. Hermione breathed in, then out and let the moment of utter terror pass.

With a speed that was honed from the battlefields of her youth, Hermione whipped her wand in an intricate pattern. Fera immediately dropped her hand from Draco’s throat and he fell forward onto his knees. Her hand was turning to stone, unable to grip or flex. The stone spread up her arm, but instead of fear or defeat, her eyes glowed with laughter.

“Wrong choice,” Fera taunted.

A grey blur in the wind darted from behind the trees and pushed Hermione down to the ground. Two large paws were pressed against her shoulders and fierce blue eyes stared into her own. The wolf snapped at Hermione, teeth bared and sharp in her face. She faintly heard Draco call for the Aurors, but the only thing she could focus on were the drops of saliva that dripped down onto her from the wolf’s large teeth. With a quick movement of the wrist from Fera, the wolf clamped down on Hermione’s throat. It wasn’t biting down, but its teeth were poking sharply into the tender skin of her neck.

Everyone froze in shock.

“You didn’t think I had another plan?” Fera’s voice rang out throughout the ranks of Aurors and professors waiting to rescue Hermione. “Now the choice is yours, Mr. Potter. In thirty seconds, Rebecca will rip Hermione’s throat out. If you choose to immobilize her, Hermione will be saved. However, if you choose to save young, _sweet_ John, Hermione will die. Choose wisely.”

With a swish of her tunic, Fera spun with the wind until a black wolf stood before them momentarily, before going to clamp down on John’s exposed throat. 


	14. Chapter 14

Draco’s heart slammed in his chest and the breath was knocked from his lungs when he saw Rebecca’s teeth pierce Hermione’s throat. A small trickle of blood ran down her pale skin and he cried out a deep, bellowing cry. He grabbed his wand and raised it to _Avada_ the wolf, but he felt warning pulse in his veins.

“Draco,” Harry called cautiously. “It’s still Rebecca.”

Draco shook his head and tried to ignore the hot tears that gathered in his eyes.

“It’s Hermione!” he yelled. Harry moved to place himself between Draco and the girls.

“She won’t forgive you if you kill a student. You know that. Now help me get John.”

Draco craned his head to see John convulsing under Fera’s teeth. He closed his eyes and let Hermione’s essence swirl around his mind before taking a large step towards the student on the ground. Fera swished her tail quickly and the hair on her back stood up as Draco moved closer to John. Harry came up behind Draco and together, they approached the she-wolf.

“We chose, Fera,” Harry beseeched. “Let him go.”

She began to loosen her bite when Draco felt sharp pain around his neck and turned back to Hermione. Rebecca’s teeth buried further into Hermione and tears were running down her face. The sharp teeth sunk another millimeter and Hermione’s crimson blood steadily streamed onto the mud and twigs below her. Draco couldn’t look away from her; horror and sorrow pounded in his heart. She closed her eyes and he felt the panic subside as her love chased away the dread.

Harry was yelling out for Healers as Fera began to back away from John, and Draco’s world blurred as the tears in his eyes poured out. He sunk to his knees and cried, hoarse and desperate. Movement from the sky drew his eyes upward and he spotted Luna and Neville hurdling towards them on brooms. A bright red jet shot from Neville’s wand and Fera whimpered and slumped into the ground. Another spell blasted Rebecca into the air, away from Hermione. Still paralyzed, Draco stared at the sight unfolding around him.

Ginny ran toward Hermione and dropped to her knees, murmuring incantations as purple streams flowed from her wand onto Hermione’s neck. Luna landed near John and began to mimic Ginny, healing John bit by bit. He looked to the right and saw the Aurors surrounding Fera, sending several more stunning and binding spells at her. As soon as she was subdued, they Apparated away with her in their possession. Draco finally gathered enough sense to move and he crawled over to the steadily increasing group of Healers surrounding Hermione. He found a crack to peak between their legs and immediately wretched on someone’s shoes. Her skin was gray and sallow, and there was a coating of thick blood around her neck and chest. Her lips were pale and blue- and then his vision turned to black as the coppery smell of her blood wafted through his nose.

\------------------------

Soft, warm lips worked their way down his face, dropping two kisses on his closed eyelids, then one down the bridge of his nose. They landed on his lips next, and he could not, for the life of him, remember what to do. The lips moved away and he felt very alone. Then, like an answer from the gods, he was surrounded by the scent of fresh apples and vanilla as soft hair tickled his chin. A soft, feminine body brushed up against his and a beautiful voice began to whisper in his ear.

“Draco,” it said. “Draco, wake up. Please, Draco. Please.”

It sounded desperate but his eyes wouldn’t open despite his overwhelming urge to obey the sweet voice.

“It’s Hermione, Draco. I’m so worried about you. Please wake up. I don’t know what I’ll do without you, you stubborn git. Your mother is here and she’s staring at me now, so please just wake _up_.”

“He’s smiling!” the voice yelled out. “Ginny! Come here! He’s smiling!”

The clicking of heels on wooden floor echoed through Draco’s ears and the comforting smell retreated for a moment.

“Hermione, he’s frowning now. Do you think he can sense my presence? He never was a fan of us Weasleys,” another voice piped up.

“Don’t take it personally, dear,” an older voice said. “I blame Lucius for that.”

The fresh scent came back and a soft, delicate finger traced his bottom lip. He really wanted to taste it; would it taste as sweet as it smelled?

“Ah! He licked me! Draco Malfoy, if you don’t wake up this moment, I will never speak to you again!”

“Are you scolding your unconscious boyfriend, Hermione?” a deeper, masculine voice asked with laughter.

“Ron, you shut up,” his favorite voice responded. “He’s responding to me! I know he can hear me.”

A small hand wrapped around his and he yearned for more.

“He squeezed my hand!” Then a just a second later, those warm lips brushed against his ear. “Draco, if you wake up, I will fuck you senseless every day for the foreseeable future.”

His eyes snapped open and he took in the woman hovering above him. Her chocolate eyes and strawberry lips made him hungry and Draco leaned up to plant a long kiss on her mouth. His tongue tickled her lips and she opened her mouth while clutching tightly at his hospital gown. He freed his hands from the blanket and clutched her waist, pulling her closer to his body. She moaned softly and it vibrated against his tongue.

“Oh my,” the older voice said.

“Yeah, they do that,” the man joked and began to pull gently at the woman entwined in Draco’s arms. “Come on, Hermione. His mum is right here.”

That seemed to shake her aware enough to pull back and look down affectionately at the man below her.

“Hermione,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”

“I am,” she said with a smile. “Thanks to you.”

Draco furrowed his brow as Padma walked over to him.

“The hairpin saved her,” she said and adjusted the wand in her pocket. “When she was bit, it began to channel your life force to sustain her. All the blood she lost was magically replenished with your own. Fascinating process, really, but unfortunately it left you a bit worse for wear.”

He sat up and took in the scene around him. His mother was perched delicately on a chair, while two of the Weasleys were watching him. Hermione was sitting on the side of his bed and his hand was still grasping her securely. Neville was asleep on the hospital bed next to him, limbs tangled with Luna’s, who was wearing a beautiful new ring on her left hand. Draco gave a faint smile and his mother raised a single eyebrow at him. With a slight shrug he looked back to Hermione. Her skin was back to its peachy glow and there were only a few scars on each side of her throat. He longed to kiss each one, but thought twice when his mother cleared her throat.

“Now that I see you are well and in capable hands,” she began, “I will take my leave.  Draco, please come to dinner as soon as you are well enough.” She paused for a moment. “And bring Hermione.”

With a swish of her cloak, she left the group. Ron also excused himself to search for Harry.

“So what’s my prognosis, Healer Potter?” Draco asked Ginny with a smirk.

“Your body is well enough, _Mister_ Malfoy,” Ginny replied. “But you need to restore your life force.”

“My life force? And how would I do that?”

“Well, there are several ways, but I’ll leave you with the most successful method.” Ginny stopped with a dramatic pause. “Sex.”

“Sex?” Hermione echoed.

“Indeed. Sex is magic, is it not? When two people come together and share their magic in such a powerful way, life force flows from one to the other. This exchange of magical energy balances the soul. I suggest you do it as soon as possible, lest more of Malfoy’s energy slip away.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows meaningfully at Hermione and gently woke Neville and Luna.

“Draco!” Luna exclaimed when she saw him awake. “It’s so good to see you up.”

With a sharp nod of Ginny’s head, the couple scurried out of the room. Padma and Ginny followed them, and before closing the door, Ginny popped her head back in.

“I’ll ward it,” she said. “And silence it.”

With a final wink at her friend, Ginny’s red head disappeared from sight.

“Well,” Draco said and pulled off his hospital gown. “You heard the good Healer.”

Hermione laughed and unzipped her dress and stepped out of it. She stood before Draco in only white, lacy knickers and his mouth went dry. Hermione climbed on top of him, straddling him on the hospital bed.

“Indeed, Mister Malfoy,” she purred and leaned in to kiss him. He grabbed the back of her head and held her close to him. His other hand skimmed down her body to rub gently at her center and she grinded down against his hand. Their mouths battled for dominance, tongues twining and lips pulling. Draco surrendered to work his way down to her chest, leaving nipping kisses as he went. Hermione moaned deeply with his mouth closed around her nipple, while his hand continued to rub at her pussy. Her wetness began to seep through the fabric of her knickers so she muttered a Vanishing spell and they disappeared. Draco immediately pushed two fingers inside of her and she keened in pleasure. The combination of his mouth on her breast and his fingers inside of her was making her dizzy and she pushed him down by the shoulders.

Draco looked up at her with a surprised look on his handsome face. She leaned forward to kiss him again, but he deftly switched their positions so he was hovering above her body. Hermione smiled and hooked a leg around his waist. Draco groaned when her slick pussy rubbed against his cock and he began to trace her clit lightly with the tip.

“Draco,” she moaned. “Please.”

With a slight arch of her back, she rubbed her hard nipples against his chest and he let out a long, deep growl.

“Please what, Hermione?” he asked in a strangled, raspy voice.

She groaned and hauled his hips closer to her own, so they were pressed firmly together.

“Fuck me,” she whimpered. “Please, Draco. Now.”

With a jolt of his hips, Draco slammed into Hermione. She mewled and writhed under him, adjusting to the sudden intrusion. She bit her bottom lip when he repeated the action, surrounding himself in her wet heat again. Her tongue danced around his ear and down his neck and he groaned again, thrusting into her rhythmically. Hermione gave a great, sobbing breath and dragged her sharp fingernails down his back. The pleasure-pain caused Draco to grunt and he pumped harder into her.

He moved her leg from his waist to his shoulder and supported himself on his knees as he pounded into her. Draco kissed the inside of her foot and licked a long stroke across her ankle. With his free hand, he rubbed gently at her swollen clit and Hermione gasped. She tilted her hips up, meeting Draco’s thrusts, and felt the wire in her core begin to coil tightly.

“Oh god,” she cried, egging Draco on. She repeated his name like a breathy mantra and with one final flick of her swollen bud, the wire snapped. She screamed out, digging her nails into Draco’s forearms. Her back arched off the bed, giving Draco a perfect vision of her breasts before he succumbed to the clenching, throbbing pleasure of her pussy around his cock. They drowned in their combustion, riding the waves of their ecstasy until Draco fell forward against Hermione.

“Do you think you’ve got all your life force back?” she murmured, still slightly drunk from pleasure.

Draco grunted in response and she raked her nails through his sweaty hair.

“Personally, I don’t think you do. I know I’m no expert, but perhaps another go with really solidify our magical energy,” Hermione lectured in her best professor’s voice.

Draco laughed against the crook of her neck where his face was buried.

“I think you’re right,” he agreed and sucked at her pulse point, feeling her heart beat rapidly beneath his tongue.

\----------------------

Ron bounced the happy, giggling baby Adelaide in his lap and waiting for Hermione to return to her flat. He, Lavender, Harry, Ginny, Neville and Luna were all sitting around her dining table taking bets on how long the couple would be _occupied_ in the hospital wing before returning to the apartment. They came through the door after an hour and a half (Luna won) and Hermione greeted all her friends. Draco gave a curt nod to Ron and Harry, but gave Neville a solid pat on the back and a placed a polite kiss on Luna’s cheek.

They all settled around the table and discussed the Longbottom-Lovegood wedding. Luna wanted to get married in a garden, surrounded by blooming flowers. Her only wish was for her wedding party to wear radish crowns to keep away the Nargles. Everyone laughed and agreed, while Neville remained mum. When Draco got up to get a drink, Neville followed him into the kitchen.

“Longbottom, is there a reason you’re stalking me?” Draco asked and narrowed his eyes.

Neville cleared his throat nervously.

“I was wondering if you would be one of my groomsmen, maybe? I know we don’t know each other that well but I do consider you a friend, and surely Luna will want you there, and I know Hermione will be a bridesmaid and I think it would just be nice…” he trailed off and took a deep breath.

Draco mulled over the idea. He was unsure when he became a member of this little group, but as long as he got to have Hermione, he didn’t really care either way.

“Sure, Longbottom. I’d be honored,” Draco said with a small nod.

When the two men returned to the table, the ladies were bent over Lavender, who was sketching various dresses. Ron and Harry took turns making faces at Adelaide, trying to keep themselves and the baby occupied. Draco looked over at Hermione, who was busy explaining something about the different shades of white, and sat down to join the men.

After a half an hour of designing and planning, Hermione looked up to find Draco and Adelaide engaged in conversation. She was babbling at him and he responded by telling her the many rules of Quidditch and how Slytherin’s house team was always better than Gryffindor’s. Ron and Harry were drifting off to sleep and Neville was reading, so Draco had free reign of the baby. He bounced her a little too hard describing how a seeker catches the snitch and she spit up all down his crisp, black oxford. Hermione widened her eyes and prepared for the worse, but she heard Draco console Adelaide.

“Well, that’s just how it goes with a baby, now isn’t it?” he mumbled gently and wiped her mouth with his thumb. He conjured a warm, wet rag to clean her then Vanished the mess down his shirt. “Back to new, Addie. Have no fear, for I am a Malfoy and Malfoys are never messy. My mother taught my cleansing spells before I even got my Hogwarts letter. Absolutely batty, she is. I’m sure Hermione will be much more sensible.”

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline and a giddy smile spread across her mouth. She nudged Ginny and nodded in Draco’s direction. Ginny looked over and rolled her eyes at Hermione’s expression.

“Surely you can’t have baby fever, Hermione,” Ginny said quietly, as thought she didn’t want to interrupt Draco and Adelaide’s very serious conversation.

“No, no of course not,” Hermione replied. “But it’s sweet, isn’t it?”

Ginny nodded and sent a small paper airplane to poke Harry in the face to wake him up. He startled and fell off his chair and the room erupted in laughter. Hermione couldn’t take her eyes of Draco as he glared at the ruckus. He sent up a small silencing spell so the laughter wouldn’t disturb Adelaide, who was now snuggled against his chest in a deep sleep. Hermione stood up and walked over to Draco. He looked up at her and she snuck a quick kiss on his lips. He smiled into the kiss and used his spare hand to pull her back for more. Another paper airplane hit the side of Hermione’s head and she reared to see the annoyed face of Ron Weasley. She cancelled Draco’s silencing spell so she could hear him.

“Oy, you two! Bloody menaces, with your lips always attached. It’s honestly a wonder Hermione isn’t knocked up yet.”

Lavender and Ginny both smacked him on the arms and he shot a bewildered look to Harry.

“Don’t look at me, mate,” Harry said with a chuckle. “You upset the women, and now you must pay.”

\---------------------------

Much later that evening, Draco and Hermione were laying in Hermione’s bed, drinking in each other’s touch and presence.

“What happened to the wolves?” Draco asked.

“Fera is in Ministry custody,” Hermione responded and cuddled up closer to him. “Rebecca is in the hospital wing with Bryony, in a magically-induced coma. Padma was able to force her back into her human body, but we won’t know how to counteract Fera’s spell until she’s interrogated. It could be a while.”

“And John?”

“Fine. He wasn’t badly hurt, after all. I think he’s in the same wing as the girls, but he wasn’t bitten or anything.”

Draco allowed a calm silence to flow between them before asking what he had been dreading since he saw Rebecca’s long canines snap at Hermione’s throat.

“And you’re not… _bitten_?”

Hermione sat up and looked at him.

“No one told you?”

Draco shook his head and began to sweat as anxiety wracked him.

“We had sex,” Hermione murmured, her face drawn in a frown. “We had sex and you didn’t know if I was a werewolf or not.”

“Right…” Draco breathed slowly.

“Oh!” She laughed at the look of panic on his face. “I’m not! I’m sorry! I was just surprised. You didn’t ask me before we shagged.”

“I would have shagged the life out of you regardless. You were alive; that’s all I cared about. This-” he gestured between the two of them, “would just be infinitely more difficult if you were a werewolf.”

“Harder than a Malfoy and a Muggleborn?”

Draco scoffed at her. “I think we’re doing just fine.”

Hermione smiled and kissed him sweetly.

“I do too.”


	15. Chapter 15

Draco lounged on an uncomfortable waiting room chair, his long legs spread out before him. He watched Hermione as she paced in front of him, occasionally flipping her hair out of her face. She had been ranting for the better part of an hour and he was grateful for silence, however fleeting. Just when she appeared to have gathered her breath for another go, Harry and Ron walked out of the large, black door in front of the couple. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at him.

“Well?” she asked, and Draco stifled the amusement that was bubbling up inside of him.

“She’s tough,” Ron admitted and took a seat next to Draco. He briefly made eye contact with Draco who raised an eyebrow in greeting.

“Did she tell you the counter-curse?” Hermione huffed, drawing the men’s attention back to her.

“Fera didn’t say a single word,” Harry said. “But Padma doesn’t think there _is_ a counter-curse. If Fera’s magic is based on necessity, there is a chance the curse can’t be reversed.”

Hermione paled slightly and shrunk into the chair next to Draco.

“Let me talk to her,” she said with a soft and pleading voice. Her eyes bore into Harry’s and his stature softened a bit.

“Hermione, we can’t. You aren’t an Auror. You don’t even work for the Ministry! I know you’re angry about staying out here-” Draco snorted and tried to cover it up with a cough when Hermione glared at him, “-but I really can’t allow you to talk to her.”

“Not mention that she did try to kill you,” Ron said. “Talk about conflict of interest.”

“Then what do we do? If there’s no counter-curse, the curse on Bryony and Rebecca won’t stop until Fera dies.”

Draco perked up at that.

“That could be easy to arrange,” he said as the Golden Trio looked at him with wide eyes.

“Oh come off it,” he grunted. “I’m not suggesting we _kill_ her. But there are plenty of spells and potions that mimic death, even if only for a moment. We could try it. Her momentary deathlike status could break the curse.”

Hermione let out a little squeal and leaned forward to kiss Draco. He _hmph_ ed in surprise, but smiled into the kiss when he heard Ron grumble. She pulled back slightly breathless and stood up.

“Harry, where’s Padma?” she asked.

“She’s still monitoring Fera, I think. Padma is keeping Fera human with some kind of Stasis charm. She tried to explain it to us, but…” Harry trailed off with a sheepish look.

“Well, never mind that now,” Hermione said with a wave. “Can you go fill her in? Draco and I will be in the library at Hogwarts.”

She nearly skipped to the lift and jabbed the down button so hard that Draco thought she could’ve broken a finger if it wasn’t for the adrenaline pumping through her. When Hermione looked back at him, he couldn’t do anything but sigh and follow her out.

The disembodied voice announced their arrival at the lobby and Hermione sped over to the long line of fireplaces. Draco walked in her wake, watching everyone’s eyes land on Hermione, then to him, and back to Hermione with poorly hid disgust. There was a reason he hadn’t returned to Wizarding Britain; he may have been cleared of all charges after the war, but he was still a Malfoy. Draco dragged his hand through his hair and tried to ignore the sneers.

Hermione stopped in front of an empty fireplace and grabbed some Floo powder to head back to Hogwarts. She noticed the sickened look on Draco’s face and craned her head around him. Several people were pointing at them and she could hear bits and pieces of their conversations. She furrowed her brow when the Ministry guards went for their wands, carefully watching Draco. Hermione turned to him and grasped one of his shaking hands and looked him deep in the eyes. They were stormy with anger and guilt and she moved forward into his personal space. The ministry atrium was silent as bystanders openly gawked at the couple. With a quick look to the guards, Hermione brought her lips to Draco’s, kissing him softly and sweetly. He ignored the shocked cries from their growing audience and looped his arms around her waist. She moaned quietly when he tightened his hands against her lower back and broke the kiss before it got too heated. With that, she pulled him into the fireplace and shouted “Hogwarts Headmistress’s office!”

\-------------------------

After three hours in the library, Draco and Hermione had two possible solutions. Hermione found the first spell in an old medical textbook. The spell, _Mors Tempus_ , was originally used as a coma-inducing spell, but was found to be too dangerous. Hermione laughed when she read the margin; someone had commented that the spell was also used by old pureblood families to get out of marriage contracts. Draco found the second: a less volatile version of Draught of Living Death. It still put the drinker into a suspended animation, but only for a few minutes. Hermione sent off an owl to Padma to get her opinion on which of the two would be their best option. While waiting to hear back, Hermione went up to the hospital wing to check on Rebecca. Pansy was already there, brushing Bryony’s long hair.

“Hermione,” she greeted and began to plait her sister’s hair.

“We’re getting close,” Hermione said and Pansy’s schooled facial expression teetered on excitement for a moment.

“How close?”

“Close,” Draco supplied, taking a seat in between the girls’ beds.

“And what will happen when they wake up? Will they remember anything?” Pansy questioned.

“I hope not,” Hermione sighed and sat on Rebecca’s bed. “I don’t want her to remember that night.”

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione turned towards Pansy again.

“Narcissa wants to have me over for dinner and I’m terrified.”

Pansy’s calm façade broke entirely and she let out a loud, barking laugh. Her mirth sent off a chain reaction, and eventually even Draco was clutching at his sides in laughter. When they finally calmed down, Pansy spoke.

“Well, it’s about damn time. She mentioned something after tea, but I didn’t think she’d go through with it!”

“But tea was a complete disaster!” Hermione exclaimed.

“On the contrary,” Pansy said with a smirk. “Narcissa is a brilliant woman. She wanted to test you, to see if you had enough spice for Draco.”

Draco reared his head back.

“Don’t be dense, Draco,” Pansy scoffed. “Your mother knows you better than anyone. Every woman she ever suggested to you was immediately dismissed for being too boring. She caught on, and after seeing Hermione fawn over you on your sickbed, I think she accepted that Hermione is a good match for you. I expect this get-together will be much more pleasant for you, Hermione.”

Before Hermione could react, a small owl flitted in and dropped a small letter on Hermione’s lap. She quickly read Padma’s neat script before handing it to Draco. He nodded and turned to Pansy.

“Tonight,” he said and left the room.

“Well that was cryptic,” Pansy said with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

“Tonight, Padma is going to perform a spell on Fera that will render her temporarily dead. It should release the curse on your sister so we can wake her up.”

“Who will wake her up?”

“I will,” Ginny said as she strode into the room. “I’ll release the coma spell when I get word from Harry.” She held up a little heart pendant. “Protean Charm.”

Hermione nodded with a smile.

“And what if this doesn’t stop Fera’s curse?” Pansy asked, her voice tinged with worry. When neither Hermione nor Ginny responded, she sighed. “Okay, let’s hope it works.”

After a few more minutes with Ginny, Hermione left to find Draco. His odd departure left her on edge and he wasn’t in his flat. She walked over to hers to find it empty as well. Hermione picked up her hairpin and focused on Draco. His emotions were a jumbled mess of fear, guilt and insecurity. She called out to him, but only felt silence in return. Defeated, she slumped onto her couch and took out her wand. With him planted firmly in her mind, she performed a tracking spell. When Hermione saw his location, she frowned and walked quickly out the door.

She climbed up the many flights of stairs and finally arrived at the small door that let out to the deck of the Astronomy Tower. Draco was sitting on the ground, staring out at the Black Lake. A shiver went through her body so she performed a silent warming spell and sat down next to Draco. His arms were resting on the tops of his bent knees, with his feet flat on the ground. He was rubbing the faded Dark Mark, his face creased in thought.

“Draco,” Hermione said, breaking the eerie quiet. He looked at her, eyes shining with unshed tears. Hermione swallowed her words and instead rested her head on his shoulder.

“I’ve got a lot of baggage, Hermione,” he whispered and his voice was rough with emotion.

“Do you?” she asked.

“Today at the Ministry- that’s going to happen all the time. People will never forgive my family. I know my father doesn’t deserve forgiveness, but my mother and I did what we had to do to survive. Most people won’t understand that.”

She picked her head up and followed his gaze to the stars.

“Everyone says Gryffindors are brave,” she began. “And we are, to an extent. But don’t mistake our bravery for the absence of fear. We just chose to move past them and not let our fear prevent us from action. I’m scared of plenty of things: failure, loneliness. But I’ve never been scared of what other people think of me. Sure, I crave approval like everyone else… but I don’t let someone else’s notions prevent me from going after something I want.”

Draco lowered his gaze to meet hers.

“And, Draco, I want you.”

Hermione stood up and brushed her skirt. She was nearly to the door when she was flung back into the wall of the Tower. Draco’s mouth was on hers before she could say anything and his tongue began to do dizzying things to hers. He hiked her legs up to wrap around his waist and ground his impressive erection into her. Hermione let her head fall back against the wall with a moan and Draco moved down to her neck. His hands pulled at the top of her cotton tank top until the neckline sat below her breasts. With another tug, he moved the cups of her bra down so her breasts were freed. When his teeth tugged at her nipple, Hermione rolled her hips to rut against him. The angle caused her covered center to rub against the zipper of his pants, sending delicious shockwaves of friction through her body.

“Are you sure you want me?” he asked into her neck.

“What?” Hermione breathed, trying to focus her thoughts. “Yes.”

“Even after this is over?”

“When what is over?” she asked, confused and now frustrated that he stopped sucking her pulse point.

“This werewolf thing,” he said and accented the words with three bites to her neck. “What will we have when the mystery is solved and everything goes back to normal?”

“Draco,” she half-moaned, half-scoffed. “We’ll have us.”

He looked up at her, his eyes burning into hers. With a sigh of relief, his mouth crashed back down to hers with a kiss that was full of hope. Hermione quickly unzipped his pants and grasped his length in her hand, guiding it towards her pussy, now wet and ready for him. He pulled aside her knickers and pushed into her. Hermione melted into him, completely incapacitated by the jolts of pleasure that overtook her. She clenched her muscles around his cock and he cried out.

“Fuck, Hermione,” he grunted. “You feel amazing…so hot and tight.”

“Keep talking,” she groaned and closed her eyes.

 “I fit inside you so perfectly. It’s like you were made just for my cock.”

Hermione gasped and shuddered when he slammed harder into her.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he continued. “I can feel you dripping all over me. Touch yourself, Hermione. I want to feel you come around me.”

With a moan, she moved her hand from his shoulder to play with her clit. Draco timed his thrusts with the movement of her fingers and she was starting to reach the edge, ready to topple over at any moment.

“Just like that,” he growled into her ear. “I want to see your face when you come for me. No one else gets to see that face- isn’t that right?”

She nodded, biting her bottom lip to keep from screaming. His words were pushing her closer to her breaking point.

“Come,” he commanded with a deep thrust and she obeyed, falling over the edge. Her pussy began to spasm, sending ripples of bliss from her center outwards. Hermione cried out, gripping Draco’s shoulder tightly. She felt him shudder against her and he dropped his head to rest on her shoulder.

“Draco,” she murmured into his hair. “It’s nearly time.”

He slid of out her and kissed her gently before righting their clothing.

“Let’s go,” he said and grabbed a hold of her hand.

\-------------------------

Hermione, Draco, Ginny and Pansy stood around the girls’ beds. Harry had just sent a message through Ginny’s pendant saying that Padma was preparing to place the spell on Fera. Hermione fiddled with the hem of her shirt, while Draco stood as still as a statue next to her. Ginny made a small noise and looked at the heart in her hand.

“Let’s do it,” she said and walked over to Rebecca first. She placed the tip of her wand on Rebecca’s forehead and murmured a long incantation. Rebecca’s fingers began to twitch and the muscles in her neck flexed. When Ginny removed her wand, Rebecca sat straight up, her eyes wide open and her mouth open in a growl. Her canines were pointed and her eyes were glowing bright blue.

‘Rebecca,” Hermione said gently and walked over to the girl. “Can you hear me?”

Rebecca’s head snapped towards Hermione. The color in her eyes dulled and her teeth shrunk back to human teeth. She let out a long, heart-wrenching sob and clutched Hermione tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” Rebecca cried into Hermione’s chest. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Hermione rubbed the girl’s back soothingly and calmed her down.

“It’s not your fault, Rebecca,” she answered. “It wasn’t you.”

“As touching as this is,” Pansy’s bored voice echoed through the room. “Can we move on to Bryony now?”

Ginny narrowed her eyes and moved to the other girl. She repeated the same incantation and Bryony began to move slightly.

“Bry,” Pansy whispered. “Wake up.”

Bryony’s eyes popped open and she screamed a long, loud, blood-curdling screech. Draco threw a _Silencio_ at her, and while her mouth remained open in a shriek, no noise came from her mouth.

“What the bloody fuck was that all about?” Draco shot at Ginny.

“She’s been in a coma for nearly a month! Give her a moment!”

Sure enough, Bryony closed her mouth and looked around at the adults surrounding her. She looked absolutely terrified until Pansy pushed forward and enveloped her in a hug. Draco removed the silencing spell, only to have the room filled with sounds of crying.

“I’ll send a message back to Harry,” Ginny muttered to herself.

When Bryony and Rebecca’s tears waned, they got out of bed to embrace each other.

“It seems they still have their bond,” Hermione said to Draco, who nodded in acknowledgement.

“Uh, guys,” Ginny’s nervous voice whispered. “They can’t wake up Fera.”  

 


	16. Chapter 16

“What does that mean?” Pansy asked. “Bryony, how do you feel?”

She nervously felt her sister’s face, looking for some kind of sign of damage.

“I…  I feel fine… but weird.”

Rebecca nodded.

“Like something’s off,” she confirmed.

Ginny performed a quick diagnostic spell and turned to Hermione.

“They’re fine,” she said with a sigh of relief and sent the message long to Harry. “He says to wait here.”

Hermione filled Rebecca in on the happenings of the past week while Pansy chattered nervously, telling Bryony anything that crossed her mind. When she started talking about her ex-boyfriend’s lacking bedroom skills, Draco called the conversation to a halt and they waited in silence for Harry and Ron.

They finally appeared, covered in soot from the Headmistress’s fireplace. The room watched them expectantly while they wiped the grime from their robes. Harry looked up and startled.

“Oh! Right. Fera’s out cold. Nothing can wake her up. Padma is going to check her into St. Mungo’s and we’ll know more later. The current theory is that her magic sensed the loss of her pack and is protecting her by keeping her asleep.”

The way he ended that sentence with a flippant shrug told Hermione that she wouldn’t learn anything more until she talked to Padma.

“Who cares?” Ron snorted and gave Ginny a heavy slap on the back in lieu of a proper greeting. “Good riddance, I say.”

Pansy nodded vehemently but Hermione spoke.

“Don’t you think it’s sad? I mean, she was crazy, of course, but she was just lonely. I’m not saying I support her methods, but what good is a wolf without a pack?”

Draco slid his arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head. He was constantly shocked by her compassion.

“So what now?” he asked Harry.

“Nothing,” he said with a relieved sigh. “It’s over. Fera’s in Ministry custody, the girls are fine.”

“I say we celebrate,” Pansy said with a devious grin. “Draco, is your apartment available tonight?”

He shrugged noncommittally and Ginny squealed and clapped her hands.

“Let’s go to Hogsmeade and get supplies!”

Pansy, Ginny and Bryony scurried off while Hermione and Rebecca rolled their eyes.

\------------------------

Hermione walked over to Draco’s door and felt the heavy bass vibrate in her bones. She pulled down the hem of her dress. Pansy and Ginny told her wear the sexiest thing she owned, which was the most ridiculous request Hermione had ever heard. She settled on a knee-length strapless dress with a sweetheart neckline. The black fabric shimmered when she walked, which is why she bought the dress in the first place. With a pair of simple black heels and a quick application of makeup, she was out the door in ten minutes.

“Hello, Hermione,” Luna said from down the hall. She was wearing a lilac dress that set off her bright blue eyes nicely. “You look nice.”

“Thanks, Luna. You do too! Your dress matches your ring,” Hermione commented and the girls hesitated a moment before opening the door. “A party thrown by Ginny alone is usually a bumping-and-grinding mess… but adding Pansy’s influence to that…” Hermione trailed off.  

They stepped through the threshold and gasped. The living room was transformed into a large dance floor, decorated with red and black lights that flickered with the beat of the music. There was an entire bar set up in Draco’s small kitchen, complete with a bartending elf.

“Hermione!” Ginny slurred. “What are you wearing? Is that the sexiest thing you own?”

Harry tried to quiet her, but Ginny made her way to Hermione and swished her wand. Hermione’s dress shortened and tightened. She tried to pull it down, but it seemed to get shorter under her touch.

“It’s charmed,” Pansy said with a smirk. “The more you fiddle with it, the more revealing it will get. Came up with that one myself.”

Hermione glared at the plotters and looked around for Draco. Instead, she saw Ron and Lavender snogging in a corner, Dean flirting salaciously with a Slytherin who was in their year at school, and Harry guzzling down a liberal shot of firewhiskey.

“Who are all these people?” Hermione asked Ginny, who just laughed and shrugged.

“I invited my friends, Pansy invited hers. Looks like a school reunion for Gryffindors and Slytherins,” she commented with a giggle then headed towards Harry.

Hermione turned back towards Luna, but she had already dragged Neville out in the crowd on the dance floor. With a smile, she headed over to the bar and ordered a drink. She leaned forward on her elbows and watched the elf make her cocktail with a flourish. He looked happy, she noted, and vowed to ask Pansy if he was going to be paid. As soon as that thought flitted into her mind, a hard body pressed up against her bum. She realized with a flush that she was posing quite scandalously, with her arse in the air in her newly tarted up dress. Hermione knew it was Draco- she recognized his scent- and decided to have a little fun. She grinded back against him and laughed when he grunted. She stood up straight to knock back her drink, and he pressed himself flush against her.

“You should know I have a boyfriend,” she said over her shoulder.

“Do you?” he asked, his amusement clear in his voice. “And how would he feel about you rubbing up against some bloke at the bar?”

“Hmm.” Hermione pretended to consider this with another twist of her hips. She felt him harden a bit and his hands came up to circle her waist. “I think he feels pretty good about it.”

He gripped her hips a little tighter and rubbed himself against her. Hermione dropped her head against his chest and bit back a moan. Draco’s soft lips pressed butterfly kisses across her exposed shoulder, and when he reached the end of her arm, he flipped her around and kissed her soundly on the mouth. His large hand wrapped around the back of her neck and she clutched at his shirt, above his belt.

“So this boyfriend lets you dress like this in public?” Draco asked when he released her mouth.

“My boyfriend doesn’t _let_ me do anything,” she answered with a snort. “He knows I make my own decisions. But as a matter of fact, this pathetic piece of fabric wasn’t my original outfit. Ginny found me.”

Draco laughed.

“I’ll have to buy her a fruit basket,” he said and slid his hands down her backside to grab her arse. She wiggled a little under his grasp, inadvertently rubbing her chest against his.

“I think this is going to be a fun night,” Draco said dryly and led her out to the dance floor.

“I don’t really dance,” Hermione called to him, the heavy beat of the music flooding her ears.

“What if I promise that you’ll like it?” Draco yelled back and raised his eyebrows in a challenge.

They made their way through the bodies of their former classmates, occasionally waving hello. The fact that no one spared them a second glance made Hermione pledge to thank Pansy and Ginny. Perhaps it would be a fun night after all.

The music changed into a slower, but still pounding dance beat and Draco pulled Hermione to him, arse first. The resumed their position from earlier and Hermione gave an experimental swirl of her hips to the beat. Draco smiled into her neck.

“I told you,” he whispered in her ear and encouraged her to move.

By the end of the song, Hermione was full of confidence. No one was paying them any attention; everyone too preoccupied in their own dance partners. She was a little tipsy from her drink and completely drunk off Draco’s low groans and whispers. She raised her arm to loop behind his neck and grinded against him a little more forcefully. His cock was growing harder with her movement and her body temperature was quickly rising. Hermione gasped a little when Draco splayed a hand across her stomach, his pinky finger dangerously close to her mound. He sucked her earlobe into his mouth and dragged his teeth along the sensitive skin. She felt a gush of wetness from her pussy and turned herself around to kiss him. Draco immediately latched onto her mouth, biting at her bottom lip then soothing it with his tongue. His hands gripped her arse tightly, pulling her in to rub his cock against her stomach.

“Merlin,” she murmured into his mouth.

“Hermione!” a shrill voice called and she looked over to see Ginny waving her over to the bar.

“Ginny,” she said and Draco grunted, keeping his lips working against hers.  When his mouth moved down to her neck, Hermione’s eyes fell closed. She moved her body in time with his kisses, completely ignoring the beat of the music. His hands were kneading her arse and she decided there wasn’t a single thing Ginny could say that could tear her away from Draco in that moment.

Someone tapped her shoulder and thrust a shot glass into her hand. Hermione pulled away from Draco for a second to see Harry grinning at her.

“Ginny was going to bring it herself, but I figured I’d spare you the comments.”

He handed another glass to Draco and turned away from the couple to head back to his nosy wife.

“Cheers,” Draco said and tipped back the burning drink. Hermione did the same, and their empty glasses vanished into the air.

“Cool,” she commented and pulled Draco’s mouth back to hers. He tasted like firewhiskey and sin, and she was going to explode if they didn’t go somewhere more private soon.

“Draco,” she hummed when he flexed his fingers into the fleshy skin of her bum. “Your room.”

“Can’t,” he mumbled and attempted to resume his assault on her mouth. “Pansy’s in there was some Gryffindor.”

“My room,” she answered and dragged him toward the door. When it closed behind them, Draco pushed her back against it, suckling his way down her neck. Hermione began to unbutton his shirt, tracing her fingers down the pale skin of his chest. Draco reached the tops of her breasts that were unceremoniously pushed up thanks to Ginny’s handiwork. He nibbled at the soft skin, leaving little red bite marks in his path. Hermione pushed at his shoulders, sending him back-first against the wall outside of her flat. She opened up his shirt and licked her way down his stomach, stopping at his trousers to unbuckle his belt.

Draco pushed her a few steps backwards and they half-walked, half-kissed to her front door. With a wave of his wand, the door flew open and the couple stumbled inside, leaving a bewildered and unseen classmate in the hall.

They made it to Hermione’s bed and Draco tossed her down onto the soft mattress. He leaned over her and pulled her dress down, revealing her Slytherin green strapless bra. Hermione tugged at his zipper and pulled his pants down. She immediately reached her hand into his shorts and gripped his cock. Draco dropped his head and groaned before unclasping her bra and tossing it across the room. He mouth worked at her breasts while he slid her knickers down and plunged a finger inside of her. Hermione arched underneath him at the sudden intrusion and mewled when he curled his finger to press wonderfully against her. Draco added another finger, and Hermione slid her fist up and down his hard cock. He pulled her hand away with his free hand, pinned her arms above her head and slithered down the length of her body.

He bit down on her inner thigh and Hermione gave a little shriek of both arousal and surprise. His tongue parted her swollen, glistening lips and circled her clit. He kept his fingers pumping inside of her and gently sucked her clit into his mouth. Hermione moaned, deep and throaty, at the combination. Her muscles tightened, her orgasm hitting her suddenly and she cried out for Draco. He shed his shorts and climbed back up her body, leaving a hot trail of kisses up her torso.  She moaned when she tasted herself on his lips when they met for another sensual kiss. Draco plunged into her and grunted as her pussy gripped him. He thrust into her while his tongue fucked her mouth. Hermione was already on edge from her first orgasm, and when she became to shudder and moan underneath him, he pulled out of her.

Before she could cry out in frustration, Draco flipped Hermione on her back and pulled her up on her hands and knees. He sunk back into her heat and she trembled.

“Fuck!” she cried out.

Draco kissed her spine and watched goose bumps spread across her skin. His fingers were digging into the skin around her hips, pulling her body into his. Hermione began to push herself back onto his cock, impaling herself again and again. As she slammed back against his thighs, Draco began to lose his pace as his climax began to lurch through his body. He reached around Hermione and gave her clit a pinch. She tightened around him, triggering his orgasm. He grunted and groaned, trying to keep a good pace for her. When she cried out one last time and her pussy squeezed him like a vice, he let go and spurted into her.

“Hermione,” he moaned as his seed coated her walls. “Oh fuck, I love you.”

Hermione collapsed onto the bed with one final cry and Draco followed, carefully rolling off to the side. She curled into him and kissed him chastely.

“I love you too,” she murmured and they drifted off to sleep.

\------------------------

To say that the breakfast table was subdued the next morning would be an understatement. Ginny groaned into a steaming mug of black coffee while Harry rubbed his temples. Lavender and Ron were slumped over each other, practically asleep on the table. Pansy was lip-locked with Dean Thomas, uncaring that students were starting to gawk and point. Neville and Luna seemed perfectly fine, but Hermione spotted a tinge of green on Luna’s face when breakfast appeared. She and Draco barely drank the night before, so they had no hangovers to nurse. Draco munched contentedly at his bagel while Hermione buttered a piece of toast.

“Don’t look so bloody happy,” Ron grumbled at Draco and threw a pastry at his head. He missed terribly, but Draco still glowered at him. Hermione got his attention by placing her hand delicately on his knee and squeezing gently.

“Hey,” she said, a little unsure after their post-coital declarations the previous night. Draco looked at her and kissed her.

“I meant it,” he said, his voice lowered so only she could hear. Hermione smiled radiantly and kissed him again.

“I did too.”

They finished their breakfast in content silence, occasionally looking at each other and grinning. When the owl post arrived, Hermione was surprised that a copy of the Daily Prophet landed on their table. She inhaled sharply when she saw the cover: a picture of her and Draco snogging furiously outside her apartment, with the title “War Heroine Finds Love in Former Death Eater!”

“Oh god,” she muttered when she watched her picture-self move down Draco’s torso before he pulled her up for a passionate kiss. She quickly searched for an author’s name and slammed her head on the table when she found it.

“Who the fuck is Parvati Patil?” Draco growled.

Ron and Ginny fought over the paper, both trying to catch a look at the amorous couple’s photograph.

“Damn, Hermione,” Ginny said approvingly. “That’s hot.”

Harry laughed and tried to comfort his friend.

“It’s not that big of a deal. Now you don’t have to worry about telling people.”

“He’s got a point,” Draco said and Hermione lifted her head to meet his gaze. His eyes were warm and reassuring, so Hermione sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Listen, Hermione,” Luna said and began to read aloud.

“ _Sources say the couple became closer after a werewolf problem shook Hogwarts to its very core. However, this begs the question: will the couple **remain** close? Journalist Parvati Patil, promising to keep a watchful eye on our new favorite lovers._ ”

The table laughed and Draco put his arm around Hermione. She smiled up at him and their lips met in a soft kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue coming next! Thank you all for reading :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the epilogue, folks! It's been a pleasure writing for you!

Hermione watched as Ron and Adelaide twirled around the dance floor together. She followed his straying gaze to Lavender, who was pregnant again. She was laughing with Ginny and they were rubbing each other’s swollen stomachs excitedly. Her eyes scanned the room, enjoying the joy and love that seemed to fill it.

“So what do you think, Professor?” a voice called from behind Hermione. She turned to smile widely at Rebecca. She had blossomed into a beautiful young witch with caramel hair and bright blue eyes. Her gold dress shimmered under the fairy lights and she looked absolutely radiant.

“I think it looks amazing, Rebecca. You and Bry did a wonderful job. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Nonsense,” Rebecca brushed her off. “Where’s Professor Malfoy?”

“Probably hiding somewhere,” Hermione said with a laugh. “He doesn’t really like big parties.”

“Not even when he’s the guest of honor?”

Hermione shook her head with a smile and wandered out onto the balcony. She stared out at the beautiful gardens and enjoyed the rich scent of jasmine that wafted through the air. Draco’s warm body came up and pressed behind her.

“Well hello, Mr. Malfoy,” she greeted.

“Hello, Mrs. Malfoy,” he said and kissed her cheek. “Can we take off yet?”

Hermione laughed at his impatience. Draco hadn’t taken any interest in planning their wedding, instead focusing all his energy on his big surprise: the honeymoon. Every time Hermione tried to get his opinion of flowers or fabrics, he simply shrugged and snogged her relentlessly until she forgot her questions. If Narcissa hadn’t planned nearly every aspect of their wedding, Hermione seriously doubted it would have happened. Together with Bryony, Rebecca and Ginny, Narcissa had every detail down pat, much to Hermione’s relief. She didn’t dare admit it to Draco, but their whole wedding was primarily for their friends and family. She didn’t have a care in the world about the ceremony- only that she got to spend the rest of her life with the man of her dreams.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” Draco murmured in her ear and Hermione blushed.

“Not nearly enough.”

“Well, my wife, you look stunning. You’ve managed to look like an elegant virgin in white, but someone let it slip that you’ve got on green lingerie under that gown.”

“Ginny, no doubt,” Hermione replied with a laugh. “She and Harry have a bet to see how long it takes us to shag before the night is over.”

Throughout the three years of dating, Hermione and Draco had been caught in compromising positions a number of times. It had become a running joke amongst their friends, despite Hermione’s threats of hexes. Poor Neville had just walked in on them fucking like mad in the potion’s supply cupboard yesterday.

“I think Neville has seen almost as much of me as you have,” she said and laughed again when Draco growled.

“He’s lucky I like Luna, or he would’ve lost his eyes a long time ago.”

Hermione turned in his arms and laced her fingers through his hair.

“And Pansy?”

Pansy interrupted them a few weeks ago. They were in Draco’s kitchen, with his head buried in between Hermione’s legs as she sprawled across the counter.

‘You still had a bra on. Better than when Harry decided to pop over unannounced and saw you bent over my desk.”

“He thought I was hurt!” Hermione‘s blush darkened. “He did tell me he had a newfound respect for you after that.”

Draco rolled his eyes and toyed with the beading along Hermione’s décolletage.

“Then I feel bad for Ginny, if he thought that was something special.”

Hermione smacked his chest.

“It was pretty spectacular. I think you had a fistful of my hair when he walked in.”

Draco smirked at the memory and swept down to kiss his wife thoroughly. His wandering hands traced the corset lacing up the back of Hermione’s wedding dress and she slipped her tongue into his mouth. She was nearly bent backwards over the railing, with the amount of weight Draco was pressing onto her. His lean muscles twitched under her touch and she wished they could sneak away.

“Alright, you two,” Narcissa’s clear voice rang out onto the balcony. “Time for your last dance.”

Draco sighed and led Hermione back into the ballroom. As they waltzed around the floor, he murmured naughty promises into her ear. By the time the song ended, she was panting slightly and her knickers were already soaking. After their night on the Astronomy Tower, Draco loved to use her weakness for his dirty mouth against her in delicious ways. Last year, he had charmed a parchment to send notes to Hermione throughout the day, so that she could be mid-teaching and read his depraved, but highly appreciated thoughts.

Harry amplified his voice and announced that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy would be leaving in five minutes. Ginny and Luna rushed up to give Hermione one last hug, while Neville shuffled his feet and finally shook Draco’s hand, but refused to make eye contact. Draco supposed catching an eyeful of his arse and Hermione’s breasts was enough to mortify to shy man.

“You lost me five galleons, Malfoy,” Harry said, breaking Draco’s train of thought. “Now Ginny’s going to gloat all night. How did you keep it in your pants?”

“The dress,” Draco supplied with a shrug. “It’s got too many layers.”

“Damn,” Harry swore. “I should have remembered that!”

“Well, you were married when you practically twelve, Potter. That’s a long time to remember such a detail.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry grumbled and gave Hermione a quick hug she appeared at Draco’s side.

“Ready?” she asked her husband.

“You have no idea,” he murmured and they Apparated away.

When the world stopped spinning around them, Hermione look in the view before her. They were on another balcony, but this one overlooked a rolling vineyard. The sun was setting, leaving a golden glow on the fields below them. She looked directly below her into a small lagoon, with a rushing waterfall. Hermione whipped around and drank in the architecture. The building was a sandy brown, with a red roof. She could see inside the large double doors into the house. The décor was beautiful: leather, supple and warm.

“Where are we?” she turned and asked Draco, wide-eyed.

“Our very own Tuscan villa,” Draco replied with a nervous smile.

Hermione squeaked and dragged him into the room. There was a large bed in the center of the room, decorated with deep red and gold bedding. The plush carpet squished under her feet as she ran into the bathroom. The counters were granite with beautiful gold fixtures. There was a large tub on the far wall and a shower big enough for four next to it. Hermione opened the closet and gasped. It was filled to the brim with every possible style of clothing she could want.

“Ginny helped with that,” Draco said as he walked into the bathroom. “I gave her my Gringotts account number and she went wild. She said to make sure you look at the shoes.”

Hermione gasped and looked at the long row of shoes next to her. She fingered the soft leather of the pair next to her and noticed a chest of drawers tucked away.

“What’s in there?” she asked, still in shock.

“Pick something out and meet me out there,” Draco commanded and headed back to the bedroom. Hermione pulled open a drawer and tried to contain her squeal of excitement. Bras of every color and fabric lay in the drawer before her. She opened the next drawer and bit her lip when she saw the barely-there knickers. Hermione opened the third drawer and felt wetness gather between her legs when she saw the toys that she picked out while out with Pansy last week. There were handcuffs, blindfolds, and a wooden paddle that she was particularly excited about trying out. Draco cleared his throat from the bedroom and Hermione shook herself out of her reverie. She shed her wedding dress and hung it up neatly before grabbing a blindfold and running out to meet Draco.

“Fuck,” he commented when he saw her in her bridal lingerie. Instead of opting for white, she was laced up in a green and silver corset. She let her long hair down and kicked off her heels. Draco began to undress and her mouth watered when he slowly uncovered himself. His skin was glowing under the faint light and she longed to kiss every inch of his hard body. When he reached his trousers, he quirked an eyebrow and she began to peel off her stockings.

Her husband stood before her, completely nude, and she moved faster than she’d ever moved to get to him. She kissed him hard and demanding, while he quickly unraveled the lace-up on the back of her corset. It fell away and she was left in tiny green knickers. After he ripped them off, Draco backed her into a dresser and lifted her onto it. She opened her legs for him and he groaned.

“I can smell how wet you are,” he commented and lunged at her. His tongue invaded her mouth as he rubbed his cock against her wet center. Hermione moaned and writhed underneath his touch and he backed away, grabbing her thighs as he went. She squealed and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he walked them over to the bed. Hermione pulled him down and quickly reversed their position so she was straddling him. She Accioed the blindfold and winked at him before covering his eyes.

Draco began to chuckle, but quickly swallowed his laughter when Hermione worked down his body, peppering him with small kisses and bites. When she got to his cock, she pumped it in her hand a few times before engulfing the head with her mouth.

“Oh, Salazar,” Draco grunted and ran his fingers in her hair. Hermione loosened her jaw and took him deep into her mouth. She let him pop out of her mouth and took his sac in her mouth, gently massaging it with her tongue. Then, she slid her flattened tongue up his length, flicking at the tip, before swallowing him again.

“Stop,” Draco begged and pulled her back up. Hermione kissed him, tickling the roof of his mouth with her tongue. She hovered over him and sunk down onto his length.

“Fuck!” Draco cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He ripped the blindfold off and his eyes rolled back in his head when Hermione began to ride him. She set a brutal pace, grinding against him furiously. Draco was nearly paralyzed by the sight and feel of her gripping him, and his head fell back on the bed. He thrust up into her, and Hermione began to let out deep moans.

“Oh god, Draco,” she murmured, gasping in deep breaths. She placed her hands on his chest and splayed her fingers, digging into his muscles. He grabbed a hold of her hips to help her maintain her speed when she started to quiver around his cock.

“Fuck, Hermione,” he groaned. “I love seeing you like this.”

She tipped her head back and he moved a hand to rub her clit. She cried out and pulsed around him, blinding light exploding behind her eyes. He slammed up into her a few more times before coming undone, pleasure thrumming through his body.

Hermione lay on top of him, completely spent, and he raked his fingers through her riotous hair.

“So, Mrs. Malfoy,” he said with a thick, gravelly voice. “Did we stay close?”

Hermione looked up at him with confusion in her bright brown eyes.

“Parvati’s article,” he reminded her and she laughed into his chest. He was still inside of her and her body pressed against him was rekindling his desire. His cock twitched in her and she wiggled her hips.

“I’d say we’re closer than ever, Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione replied with a grin and kissed her husband.


End file.
